Falling Backwards
by gf7
Summary: Sequel to Through The Fire. The Birds try to save Helena but Mick has other ideas. Updated June 16, 2004.
1. 1

Title: Falling Backwards  
  
Author: Shawn Carter  
  
E-Mail: wolfpackproductions@comcast.net  
  
Website: (Not Yet Up)  
  
Feedback: Please  
  
Notes: This is the follow-up to Through The Fire.  
  
Recap: Helena and Barbara had a knockdown over Huntress not taking care of herself. The younger crime-fighter immediately went and got back in over her head. She ventured into an area of town known as the Red Zone due to its hard-core gang activities. The old leader of the street gang Helena ran with, the Animal Gang, is in charge of the Red Zone. Now he's captured Helena and is holding her captive.  
  
Summary: While Barbara, Dinah and Reese try to rescue Helena, things spin rapidly out of control when it becomes clear that Mick has other intentions. Murderous ones even.  
  
Rating: PG-13. Language. Violence. Non-consensual drug use.  
  
Notes: As always, fanfic.net screws with my periods and commas.  
  
*****  
  
My side is on fire.  
  
He's got me tied to a chair in some cold as Iceland warehouse. I'm not sure exactly where we are in the Red Zone but this particular building feels like it must have been used to keep something chilled. Seriously, it's frigid in here. He must be getting quite the view of my uh, assets though.  
  
I struggle against the ropes and he laughs at me. He can see that I'm in obvious discomfort. He seems amused by it. He walks over to me and bends down in front of me. He's holding a gun, looks like a .44 to me. He runs the barrel of it against my cheek and involuntarily I flinch away. He lets the cool metal rest against my skin.  
  
"Took me a long time to figure out who you were," he says, his voice very soft. He seems deep in thought. I know better; this guy ain't exactly Einstein if you get me.  
  
His name is Mick Collins and I've got a few choice terms for him. The last time we saw each other he tasered me. That's right, the stupid prick actually put a taser to my neck. I owe him an ass-kicking for that.  
  
I should have let Reese shoot him I think to myself.  
  
"And?" I drawl. I'm trying to act disinterested. To be honest, I'm curious. If Mick has figured out my identity that tells me he might have some pretty in the know benefactors. And that could actually be fairly scary. Mick running his own show is pretty worthless but with a big boss. Yeah, that could be a problem.  
  
"Helena Kyle," he says, a huge smile on his face. "You really are my kind of girl."  
  
"Mmm," I reply. "Only more sane."  
  
Okay, so he knows. I file this away for later.  
  
"Not much," he laughs. " Your police file is a hell of a read."  
  
"Didn't know you could," I grunt back at him. I adjust in the chair, trying to keep the ropes from chaffing against the knife wound. Doesn't help that my head is pounding from all of the alcohol I ingested earlier in the evening. Yeah, Tidal Wave is quite the party.  
  
He ignores my comment. He stands up and walks away from me. He speaks over his shoulder. "Though I have to admit, I was disappointed to learn that you're pretty much all hooked up with the good detective. I figured that was just a stage. I mean really, you two have no chance. He's a good guy and at your root, Kyle, you're not."  
  
"Yeah well, screw you too," I sling back at him. Okay maybe sling isn't quite right being that that may qualify as the lamest retort ever. Certainly not one to write home about.  
  
He reaches over to a table that's positioned against the wall. There are several folders on it. He pulls out one in the middle and tosses it to my feet. I look down and I have to admit, my heart actually stops for a few moments.  
  
The folder spills open its contents and I see dozens of pictures fall out. All of them showing Reese and I together in some way or another. Hell even a few of them show us involved in a rather intimate situation. I don't think I care to elaborate on that one.  
  
I have the sudden urge to rip Mick's throat out but I kinda figure such a reaction is exactly what he's hoping for. He's like that, all about the reactions. I think that's why I get him like I do; we're not all that different.  
  
"Stalking is a tad passé don't you think?" I finally manage. Yeah, this is me, cool as ice again.  
  
He grins and he's almost attractive like this. Mick is kind of right; for a while I was wildly drawn to him. He was so much easier, so much simpler than Reese. Mick and I are a lot alike. We're both hard gone adrenaline junkies with very little common sense. We both make really bad choices just because we can.  
  
Okay, I can admit it now; I was way out of line with Barbara. She's just being her. She's trying to protect me. I get that. I just hate being smothered and she does it better than anyone. Just the same, I hurt her sometimes. And I know it. She never lets it stick but sometimes it has to really burn her when I blow her off. You see I figured out her tender spots a long time ago and ashamed as I to admit it, when we fight, I exploit them.  
  
Makes me feel sick.  
  
Mick leans down and kisses me. It's not a hard invasive kiss but rather a passionate one. He puts his tongue in my mouth and for a moment, I actually let him. I think I even kiss him back. That was never his problem; he's a hell of a kisser.  
  
Finally I grunt and pull my head away. I lick my lips but I can taste him still. Salty with a bit of vodka mixed in.  
  
He laughs. "You liked it. It's still in you."  
  
I don't say anything. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. That thing in me that likes to ride with the wind whirling around me also likes to be kissed until I can't breathe. Among other things.  
  
Yeah still not going there.  
  
My name is Helena Kyle. I'm twenty-four years old. I'm a sex addict.  
  
Can I sit down now?  
  
I almost laugh to myself. I can't tell you the times that Barbara has tried to get me into one meeting or another. NA when I was in high school and being experimental. AA when she realized I'm a big fan of Vodka. I got over the need for NA myself. The alcohol thing? Well she can kiss my ass if she thinks I'm giving that up. Really, that bit is under control. Good thing about being a meta is that when I need to be sober, I can get that way in a hurry.  
  
"So what is this?" I finally ask. "Can't imagine your pet dog is overly fond of you being obsessed with me. Not that I'm not properly creeped out and all."  
  
"You're not," he replies, entirely too smug. I really desperately want to slap that smug look off his face. "And Wolf is around. She's handling something down at the docks. She'll be up soon. She's been uh, looking forward to seeing you again."  
  
He kneels down next to me, sitting entirely too close for comfort. His intentions are obvious, hell they're bloody damn near transparent.  
  
"Oh I can't wait," I mutter.  
  
I struggle against the ropes again. I can feel my side split and blood soaks the binds. It makes it a little more slippery but the trade-off is that I feel kind of woozy.  
  
"You're hurt," he says, coming back over to me. He looks at me in this weird boyish way. It's almost easy to forget that he's still a killer. He puts a hand down and touches my exposed side. I hiss in pain as his fingers probe the injury. The bandage I had applied earlier is already soaked through with blood. He removes it and continues his inspection. He finally looks up at me. "Something got you good. Looks like a knife."  
  
"I swear to God if you lick it, I will castrate you," I growl at him, not at all happy that he is still kneeling beside me.  
  
He laughs and stands up. He puts his hands out as if to say whoa back. "Can't have that. The show hasn't even started."  
  
"And what show is that?" I ask. I close my eyes for a second, doing my best to force the pain back down into its nice neat little cage. Can't lose control now.  
  
He turns to me and the boy next door look is gone. "The one where I get the girl."  
  
"That's pathetic," I snort.  
  
He chuckles. He seems so damn confident. He comes back over to me. "Oh it's much more fun than that, Cat. It's more than just about getting the girl." He pauses for dramatic effect. At least I think so. "It's about owning the girl."  
  
And then he hits me. Hard and in the side. My nostrils immediately fill with the iron-tinted smell of my own blood.  
  
I gasp in pain and fall forward. I see red in front of my eyes and then everything is spinning. Vaguely I recall that there is a good deal of alcohol in my blood but it's not doing a damn thing to mute the pain.  
  
I try to choke out a reply but nothing comes. I see the darkness rushing forward from the corners of my eyes. I know Mick's grinning at me. He thinks he's won.  
  
I know better.  
  
I'd better be right.  
  
Otherwise I'm fucked.  
  
I let out a hard breath, struggling to say conscious.  
  
I have no chance.  
  
As I fade out I hear a voice say, "I think we should kill her."  
  
That has to be Wolf. The bitch ain't exactly my best friend.  
  
Mick's voice is the last one I hear. "No babe," he says. "Not her. I have plans for her."  
  
And then I'm gone.  
  
I'm just gone.  
  
Black everywhere.  
  
****  
  
He saw the harsh white headlights well before the sleek Hummer pulled up in front of him. Standing up and away from the hood of his car, he held up his hand in greeting. And partly to shield his eyes.  
  
"Hey," Dinah Redmond said from the passenger side. She offered him a tired smile.  
  
He nodded and climbed into the backseat. "What do we know?"  
  
The beautiful red-head in the front of the vehicle turned slightly, a hum underlining her movement as the driver's seat moved with her. "Not much. We know who has her and we know that they're somewhere in the Red Zone."  
  
"Wonderful," Detective Jesse Reese muttered. "Any idea why she's playing Lone Vigilante tonight? I thought we'd broken her of that."  
  
Barbara snorted. "You're delusional if you think she can be broken of that. No matter what, Reese, it will always be there."  
  
"Yeah, I buy that," he said with a slight chuckle. In truth it was part of why he was so wild about her. Her complete and utter ability to turn him inside out and upside down made him crazy. It also turned him on in a way that he couldn't even begin to describe. "So what happened?"  
  
"Helena hurt herself out on patrol last night. She shouldn't have been out at all today. We had a bit of a.disagreement. She took off," Barbara said by why of abrupt explanation. She seemed terse and on edge.  
  
"Okay. Fight about what?"  
  
"I thought she should stay down, she wanted to dance," Barbara replied. She shook her head in irritation. "Stupid. Constant." She pointed towards the alley in front of them. "Right now she's somewhere in there with Mick. And something tells me he's not into catching up with her."  
  
"We'll get to her," Reese said softly. He placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. It was easier to be the strong one right now. Better not to even think about how worried he was. Barbara Gordon wasn't the type to panic so if she was scared, it was probably pretty serious. "How bad was the wound?"  
  
Barbara shook her head in frustration. "Worse than it should be. A knife wound but she's probably split it wide open by now. It's on her side."  
  
"Wonderful," he muttered. He reached down behind his belt and took out his standard police issue firearm. He checked to make sure it was loaded and then put it back in the holster. "I did some checking on Mick before I got here. He was paroled about two months ago and hasn't checked in even once with his parole officer. There are several outstanding warrants. Including one for the murder of a cop down in Bludhaven."  
  
"Bludhaven?" Barbara mused, mind whirling. Dick had never mentioned one of his fellow officers being gunned down.  
  
"Open murder?" Dinah asked. "I mean like in he just killed him for the hell of it?"  
  
"Sounds like a run and gun. They were escaping the scene of a jewelry heist and an off-duty officer tried to stop them. He was shot right in the face."  
  
"I guess Mick has graduated to the big leagues," Barbara said. She looked up from the map she was studying. She pointed to a location on it. "I think this would be our best entry point. This is where the old police department used to be. If my memory serves, my fathers' office was right here." She flicked her nail to indicate a certain location. "There used to be a tunnel underneath his office. Batman would go through it when he needed to speak directly to my father. It's our best bet."  
  
Reese slid around to her and looked at the map. "Okay, how do we get there?"  
  
Barbara offered him a small smile. "Through the Batcave. Of course."  
  
"Of course," Reese chuckled. "Of course."  
  
*****  
  
Oh. My. God.  
  
I could possibly scream but right now my heart is beating entirely too fast. I'm excited. That's for sure.  
  
I've heard all these stories about Barbara's former life as Batgirl and you can't even imagine all the tall tales that have been whispered about Helena's father.  
  
And now, I'm about to get to see where he worked. Where he became a legend. I'm pumped.  
  
We enter Wayne Manor at just after three at night. It's terribly dark outside and I can swear I see bats flying around outside. Has to be my imagination.  
  
I look over at Barbara and Reese and I'm amazed by how cool they are. I expect this from her; she must have spent her entire youth here. But Reese, he's got to be bubbling. He's always so curious about where Helena's from and what's she done and exactly who she is. Well, this is a way in. This is her father. This is what Hel has spent so much time rejecting all the while growing ever so much closer to it.  
  
Whoa, that was deep.  
  
I almost laugh at myself.  
  
I hear the doors open and suddenly we're standing in the massive foyer. It smells musty but somehow still clean. I have this overwhelming desire to look around but Barbara pushes us forward.  
  
She leads us into the back of the manor where there are several closed doors. We enter through one of them and step into a large well-decorated office. It's beautiful really. The wood paneling is gorgeous and elegant. I'm in awe. Reese is just taking it all in but he's playing passive. I'm impressed. He's way better at it than me.  
  
Barbara goes over to one of the walls and runs her hands across it. I see her fingers dance over the wood in a strange pattern. She looks over at Reese and I. "Hold on," she says, amusement in her tone.  
  
I wonder what she's up to.  
  
Reese and I exchange a look but it doesn't last long before the room appears to be spinning. My vision blurs and I feel like I'm about to pass out. I feel Barbara grab my hand.  
  
After about twenty seconds it's over.  
  
I gasp and wobble a few feet away from her. I fall to the ground and look up.  
  
Oh damn, I'm in a cave.  
  
I'm in the fricking Batcave.  
  
Reese helps me to my feet and I wobble a bit more. I'm unsteady. A look at him confirms that he is too. I see him place one of his large hands on the wall for balance.  
  
"What the hell was that?" he asks Barbara.  
  
She smiles. "A security device we installed after Bruce left. In my day we used to slide down poles."  
  
I chuckle at the image of this. It's hysterical.  
  
Barbara is already moving over towards where the computer banks are. The colors are flashing everywhere. I see a display that has in big white letters: TRANSMITTING- CLOCKTOWER.  
  
"What's that?" I ask.  
  
"Hm? Oh. I'm using these computers for extra backbone for mine at the Clocktower. Makes everything faster and more powerful. I'd tell you more if I thought there was even a chance that you could be interested."  
  
I laugh. Barbara has me pegged.  
  
She types in several commands and I hear a whistling of air behind us. We turn and see a door opening on the side of the cave. "Let's go," she says to us. Her chair slides smoothly towards the tunnel. We follow close behind.  
  
I can tell that Reese isn't quite ready to stop his inspection but then he seems to remember that knowing about Helena won't replace her if she dies because we took too long getting to her. He trots after Barbara. I follow suit.  
  
The tunnel is cold and wet. It's also overgrown. It's apparent that no one has used it in years. Probably seven or more. Barbara's wheels cut through the tall weeds like they're paper.  
  
"This will bring us out into your father's old office?" Reese asks.  
  
"Yep," Barbara answers, wiping sweat away from her head. It's fairly muggy in here.  
  
"Hey, I've got a question," I say suddenly. They both turn to me. "Uh, how are we going to get your chair up into the hatch?"  
  
"I thought of that already," Barbara says quickly. "Jesse will lift me up and you'll telekinetically lift my chair through. The actual hatch is large enough. That's by the way why we brought my normal chair instead of my electronic one. Easier portability."  
  
"Not to suggest that doesn't sound cool," I laugh. "But couldn't we just fold it up and hand it through?"  
  
Barbara looks at me as if I've smacked her across the teeth. After a moment she whacks herself in the forehead. "Stupid," she mutters under her breath. I hear it though and so does Reese. We're both doing our best not to let on. She finally looks up and her expression is priceless; Barbara Gordon's been sheep-dogged. "Yes of course. We can just lift it up."  
  
She wheels away from us and down the tunnel. Reese and I share a laugh together. It's a sweet moment. The guy is almost family now. He's certainly around enough.  
  
God really knows what's going on between he and Helena but it's something more serious than either is letting on.  
  
The teenager in me is scandalized by what is probably going on but Helena is keeping it awfully close to her chest. I guess it's new and she's terrified of blowing it.  
  
The only thing she has ever said to me is that it feels good. She acts like she thinks it'll be over soon but she's going to enjoy it while it's going on.  
  
Reese is different. Reese is the wildcard.  
  
You see Helena thinks he'll bail eventually. She thinks he's in this for the wild ride. She's never said that much to me but I've heard it come up in a conversation or two with Barbara. She thinks Reese is just biding his time until he finds something serious. She thinks he's just in it for the sex. I don't think I want to go there but hey, I'm sixteen, it's kind of juicy.  
  
Truth is I don't how far they've gotten but I have my guesses.  
  
As far as what she thinks, I disagree.  
  
Strongly.  
  
I think Reese is in it for the long haul.  
  
And I think he knows exactly what she's thinking.  
  
He seems so patient about it all, like he's trying to wear her down when she protests. She keeps putting these tests in front of her and he keeps just blitzing right through them.  
  
But Helena's never had a real relationship.  
  
Not with a good guy anyways.  
  
It's fascinating.  
  
Yeah okay so I am scandalized. And fascinated.  
  
So sue me.  
  
Har har.  
  
It's funny in my own head.  
  
"You coming?" Reese says from my side.  
  
I blink and look up.  
  
We're under the hatch. It's a big metal thing that's all rusted over. Looks like something out of a B movie. A bad one at that.  
  
Barbara tries to turn it but it squeaks and holds. Reese gives it a go and it continues its resistance. I hear him curse under his breath. He starts to lift his shirt off, presumably to use for traction. I touch his arm to stop him.  
  
My turn.  
  
I hold out my hands and I focus. Real hard. Everything in my head spins together and all I see for a few seconds are colors. Every single one. To be corny about it, for a few moments, I'm an actual part of the world.  
  
The hatch spins like a top.  
  
I'm the spoon to the cap.  
  
Reese grins at me, shakes his head and then pulls the hatch down. It creaks and opens inwards. Reese slides himself upwards into the room above. I hear him cough. "Dusty," he mutters. He puts an arm down and Barbara offers hers up. They meet and he lifts her up with him. I hear a small clank as she hits the ground and they exchange a few barbs. Playful small talk really.  
  
I fold up her chair the moment she's out of it. Even so, it takes almost two minutes because even her normal chair is a thing of beauty. Finally I heave it upwards, grunting loudly as I do so. Reese takes it from me and pulls it up. I hear him settle it on the ground.  
  
"I got it," Barbara says. I think she's uncomfortable with all the attention being paid to this thing she hates. This set of chains.  
  
Hey you know what, blame what I just said on Barbara. She's my English teacher and she gets that metaphorical crap in my head. Oh God, I'm so starting to sound like Helena.  
  
"Let's go," Reese calls down. He drops down his arm and I take it. He pulls me up only I yank too hard. We both fall back to the floor with a hard thud. He grunts. "Thanks," he says, rubbing his head.  
  
"Sorry," I say, looking away. I'm embarrassed. Shut up.  
  
My eyes catch on the ruin of the room.  
  
The earthquake and subsequent fire from seven years ago has really torn this place up. The desk that used to be the Commissioner Gordon's is on its side, cracked into several pieces.  
  
No one ever bothered cleaning up this place. They just kind of.abandoned it.  
  
Idly I wonder if seeing the office like this tears Barbara up. It wasn't so long ago that her father passed away and she's never really spent a heck of a lot of time dealing with it.  
  
"Welcome to Old Gotham," Barbara says softly. I look up and see that she's already back in her chair. She has the map spread over the ruins of what used to be a table.  
  
"Also know as the Red Zone," Reese adds in unnecessarily. He's standing over her shoulder. He points to something on the map. "Our intelligence says that most of the gangs are hiding out around here. Near the old water well."  
  
"Near Mr. Freeze's factory," Barbara puts in as she traces the map.  
  
Mr. Freeze. I recall him. Vaguely. He's one of the old ones locked away in Arkham. I think I read about it in one of the files in the Delphi database.  
  
Locked away and waiting as Barbara likes to say.  
  
Waiting for the day when all of the old criminals will try to run the streets red.  
  
I shudder and try to push it away. That's a battle for another day.  
  
"Why there?" Reese asks her, clearly deferring to her.  
  
"That would be where they could derive the most power. There are a few circuits over there that tap directly into the city power grid. No one has ever dared to try to turn it off. Or if they have, they've never made it back," Barbara replies.  
  
I approach the two of them, stepping over the debris on the ground. "So there is where we go?"  
  
Barbara and Reese exchanged a look. Finally Reese drawls, "Yep."  
  
You'd think he was a damn cowboy.  
  
Okay then.  
  
Let's boogie.  
  
*****  
  
She spat out blood and glared up at the brunette woman standing above her. "Keep it coming," she hissed. "But don't think for a second that I won't turn your face into paste as soon as I get untied."  
  
Wolf kneeled down next to Helena and grinned, "You're not ever going to be untied." She reached down and grabbed the younger woman's chin. She jerked it upwards so that the two of them were locking eyes.  
  
"That's not what Mick thinks. Mick thinks I'm his. Guess he still wants me," Helena taunted, knowing full well that she was walking a dangerous line.  
  
"Mick wants a cheap whore for a hard ride," Wolf spat back. She shoved Helena back causing the chair she was in to topple. Helena grunted in pain as the impact with the ground sent new flashes of pain ripping upwards.  
  
"I knew I shouldn't have left the two of you alone," Mick drawled as he entered the room. He was dressed in leather pants and a white t-shirt. Slung over his left shoulder was a large axe that was dripping what looked like blood.  
  
"Whose is that?" Wolf asked him, her eyes flicking up to the axe.  
  
"Oh, that reporter from a few days ago. Been dead almost as long and he still splattered quite a bit," Mick laughed. He dropped the axe to the ground. "How's our girl doing?"  
  
"Not ours- yours," Wolf reminded him with more than a hint of bitterness. "I say we use the axe on her."  
  
"Not gonna happen, baby," Mick replied, his voice softer. He was trying to placate her. By the look on his face, he was succeeding. "Trust me, we have uses for her. That and I mean to get even for six months in the slammer."  
  
"Oh fuck off," Helena hissed up at him. She jerked her body around until she was facing him. "Is that your grand plan? Revenge? I was wrong.that's far more passé than stalking. Hey Wolfie, did you know your boy has been watching me.like every step I take?"  
  
Wolf tossed Mick an irritated look but he just blew it off. "Just keeping track," he murmured. "Hey baby, go check on the boys. See if they're ready for the Pig Bowl tonight."  
  
Wolf hesitated for a long beat. Finally she nodded. She threw a hard glare at Helena and then turned to leave.  
  
"Yeah, I can see why you'd want me," Helena said to him, mock sweetly.  
  
Mick hit her. Hard enough to make the colors swirl again. Reaching out he grabbed her chin. "We're all part of a team here, Cat. You're the one who bailed on us. You have to pay for that."  
  
"You're boring me," she drawled, blatantly ignoring the voice in her head that was telling her to shut up.  
  
"You think I'm giving you a choice? I'm not." He leaned forward and kissed her. This time it was much harder and devoid of passion. This time it was about control.  
  
She bit his lip.  
  
He pulled back away from her, his hand going to his torn flesh. He took his hand away and looked at the blood on his fingers. "Dumb bitch," he snarled.  
  
"Yeah yeah, I've heard it all," she hissed back. She spat out more blood. Her eyes momentarily went into cat like slits but almost immediately retreated back to deep blue when the pain in her side reminded her that fighting ability was severely limited.  
  
Mick regained his step and crossed over to her. He grabbed her by the front of her shirt and jerked her upward, chair and all. "Let me make something very clear to you."  
  
"That'd be a first," she replied, eyes locked with his.  
  
He apparently chose to ignore her. "Here's how it works; ten minutes ago a couple of my guys recovered a some friends of yours. A cute blonde, a lady in a chair and your favorite little boy toy. So here's the deal, you do what I say, when I say or I will kill them." He bent over and picked up the axe for emphasis. "Trust me when I say, I don't have a problem in the world with chopping lover boy into many small pieces."  
  
Helena swallowed hard. She rather believed Mick was being serious. "Okay, " she finally said, her voice scratchy and dry. "What's your game then?"  
  
Mick grinned, the youth returning to his features and his eyes. "Oh nothing big," he promised. "Just the Pig Bowl."  
  
"And what's that? Because I'm guessing it's not football."  
  
He laughed. "Damn you're hot when you think you're being sly. No Kyle, it's not a football game but it is a slaughter."  
  
Helena's eyes bugged out. "Pigs?" she choked out.  
  
Mick nodded. "Cops." He paused to gauge her horrified reaction.  
  
"You're insane," she said, shaking her head.  
  
"Yeah but it's so much more fun than you'd think. Tonight, we're gonna kill all of the cops at the annual Shield Ball tonight. And you're going to help. And if you refuse, I think I'll start with the blonde."  
  
Helena swallowed. Head swimming and body aching, she finally managed. "Fine. Whatever you want. Just.leave them alone."  
  
Mick grinned.  
  
"Anything for you my love." He bent down and kissed her cheek.  
  
Helena dropped her head. She'd never felt more defeated in her entire life.  
  
And she sure as hell didn't know how to get out of this one.  
  
Which when you broke it down was really all her fault anyways. If she'd just listened to Barbara.  
  
She closed her eyes and prayed for strength. "Oh God."  
  
"Not in the building anymore," Mick laughed. "Just you and me. And you're mine."  
  
END CHAPTER ONE. 


	2. 2

CHAPTER 2:  
  
She actually wants me to leave.  
  
I don't know what to say to her here but I think I'll start with no. And you know what, I even do. I flat out tell her no. I'm not going anywhere. How could she think I would?  
  
She just looks right back at me, her green eyes so calm and focused. "This isn't up for discussion."  
  
"The hell it isn't," I growl back at her. "I'm not leaving until I know she's safe. And at home sleeping."  
  
Barbara Gordon shakes her head at me, her red hair flying. She's pulled it back into a ponytail but damn is it still wild. "Not an option. Reese, something is going to happen at that ball tonight. You have to be there."  
  
"I'm not going to some stupid Shield Ball while her life is in danger," I snap back, incredulously. I'm stunned that we're even having this discussion.  
  
"Guys," Dinah says from behind us. She's leaning against a half-fallen stucco wall. She's standing watch. About a half an hour ago we almost got snagged by a few grungy looking fellows wielding oversized rifles. They saw us; I'm pretty sure the big boss knows we're here. "Please."  
  
We both look at her but it's brief. We return to glaring at each other.  
  
It's almost noon now. We've spent most of the morning wandering about looking for information and avoiding traps. Hours have just flown by. So damn much time.  
  
"Reese," she starts. She takes a deep breath and her hands grip the sides of her chair. I feel a flash of sympathy for her but I know better. She'd kick my ass all the way to Metropolis if she thought I was feeling sorry for her. It's part of why I have so much respect for her. She finally continues, her tone softer. "Jesse, please. This is important. Those two thugs were talking about killing a whole bunch of cops. Unless I'm mistaken, the best place to do that with be the Shield Ball tonight. We must have coverage there."  
  
"I can go," Dinah offers, trying to defuse the situation.  
  
It's not that easy. I kind of know Barbara is right but that doesn't mean I plan to budge on this one.  
  
I can't just leave her here.  
  
Especially hurt.  
  
"No," Barbara says. "I need you here. Plus, you're not a cop. I don't think they'd even let you in. Reese, it has to be you."  
  
I shake my head. "I'm not letting you two deal with an entire war zone. The department doesn't even let a single squad car come down. Hell, we usually have to four-pack up when we come to this side of town."  
  
"We're hardly normal, Reese. You should know that by now," Barbara insists. I can tell by her tone that she's losing patience.  
  
Well guess what, so am I.  
  
I always thought butting heads with Helena was a painful thing to do but damn this woman is like thumping skulls with a bull.  
  
But hey I'm a stubborn fellow too. Have to be to be in a relationship with Helena.  
  
She's a fiery one with a will of steel. She's stubborn and arrogant. All of it hiding one of the most vulnerable women that I ever met. She'd rip my spleen out if she ever heard me say that but it's still very true.  
  
She sought me out.  
  
That's where it gets weird.  
  
Look, I'm a good-looking boy. Modesty doesn't suit me. I work my ass off and I've done pretty good for myself. All those hours in the gym have paid off. I tend to get women looking. Some even pursue.  
  
But not like her.  
  
For months before we actually met she worked behind the scenes helping me with my busts. On occasion she dropped thugs on my doorstep with a signed confession hanging from their necks. And they were always scared shitless.  
  
And then by luck or fate we met in the apartment of a murder victim. I've always wondered if she waited around for me or if I really did get the drop on her. I know Barbara wasn't happy at the time that Helena wanted to openly work with me. I wasn't really either.  
  
But she grew on me.  
  
In more ways than one.  
  
Through persistence and personality, I started to look forward to seeing her.  
  
And she didn't disappoint. She'll never admit it but she was actively searching out me as well.  
  
So yeah, we pretty much came together. Which is not to say that we haven't had our share of false steps but so far she hasn't tried to bail. Not real hard anyways.  
  
I mean I know she will.  
  
It's in her blood.  
  
The closer I get to her, the more I can see her fear. She thinks she's got me at the proper distance right now. She thinks she's in control.  
  
She has no idea.  
  
Helena Kyle and I are dating. She's begrudgingly given me that much. Which is nice of her.  
  
That's sarcasm friend.  
  
We've been this way for going on six months. That's a damn anniversary and she's making me the woman of the relationship.  
  
I want to laugh at this. It's so damn absurd.  
  
And you know what, I'm actually dreading the day when I finally say those three magic words to her.  
  
I know she'll run.  
  
I'll deal with it then.  
  
Which is to say that when she tries, I won't let her. I'll give her the space she asks for to sort things through and then when she inevitably tries to call it off because I've gotten too close, I'll just hold on a little tighter.  
  
Helena thinks she's an unexplainable mystery.  
  
She's something of that. She's also a bloody mess of her own making. Stubborn. Fool headed. Strong willed. Arrogant. Bold. Frightened of anyone getting too close. Scared at what she'll see if she ever looks in a mirror.  
  
But guess what, I love the damn girl.  
  
And I don't care what she looks like.  
  
"Reese?"  
  
I blink.  
  
"Sorry," I mutter, embarrassed to be caught deep in thought. "And no, I'm not leaving."  
  
Barbara nods slowly. "Sure, okay, that works. Better that we leave the Shield Ball completely unguarded so that scores of your co-workers are murdered by a group of ne'er do well street punks."  
  
I feel like I've been sucker punched.  
  
In the time I've known Barbara Gordon, she's always been tactful. She's always known exactly the right thing to say. She doesn't usually resort to high drama to get her point across.  
  
I stumble for a reply. Finally I sigh. "Okay," I say, defeated.  
  
Barbara sighs, relief in her eyes. She takes a deep breath and reaches out for my hand. "We need you here. But she needs you there. She'll never forgive herself if anyone dies because we were trying to rescue her. We have to be in two places at once."  
  
"I know," I say. And I do.  
  
It just sucks.  
  
Yeah that was mature.  
  
I take my gun out of my holster and hand it to Barbara. She opens her mouth to protest but I wave her off. "You guys are superheroes, I get that. Your powers might even cause some havoc around here but a bullet works just as well when a guy is rushing you head on."  
  
Barbara finally nods. She's not happy about it. There's no question that she's a not a big fan of the gun.  
  
After all one shattered her life.  
  
I stand up from where I'm crouched on the ground. I look around and see that the proverbial coast appears to be clear. I start to move away and then I stop and spin back.  
  
"We'll bring her home," Dinah promises me, her young eyes so vibrant.  
  
She believes her words so I choose to as well.  
  
I hurry back towards the Commissioners office, guessing that this trip down the rabbit hole won't be as easy as the last. I'm not wrong. On my watch to the hatch I end up knocking down three ugly as hell thugs.  
  
Finally I'm crawling down into the tunnel leading back to the Batcave. It occurs to me that I have no idea how to get back into the Manor from there but I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get there.  
  
And it hits me as I drop to the ground that I was right the first time; Barbara Gordon does know exactly what to say to get someone to do what she wants them to do.  
  
Oh hell.  
  
*****  
  
Mick squinted and looked down at the grainy video. "Any clue where they came in from?"  
  
The badly dressed street thug shook his head. "We think somewhere over by the old cop shop but we couldn't figure out from where. I don't think they saw me taking this. Chased away Skunk and Tony."  
  
"That's not hard," Mick muttered. "Well look again and then for God's sake, bring them here. She thinks we've already got 'em."  
  
"Sure boss," the thug said, handing over the camcorder.  
  
Wolf bent over him, examining the three-minute long video. The video showed Detective Reese wandering away from the two women. Unfortunately he had managed to disappear without being tracked. No one had seen him since. The two women had been spotted several times.  
  
"Who's the red-head?"  
  
"Her adopted mother," Mick said. He reached across and handed her a file. "Her real mom was murdered." He grinned. "By the Joker."  
  
"Oh you're kidding."  
  
"Nope. I just think it's funny. Our former boss who was the Joker's main squeeze was also her therapist."  
  
"Yeah I bet that went well," Wolf laughed. Then she turned to Mick. "So what are the plans for tonight then?"  
  
"To make her kill of course. She's an animal, Wolf. Even if she won't admit it to herself. That first taste of blood, it's all she needs. Even if it's by force."  
  
"So we're keeping her then?" Wolf asked with exasperation.  
  
Mick nodded. "Yeah. We're keeping her for now. Or at least until we break her."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Wolf said, walking a few steps away. She finally turned back to him. "And us?"  
  
He crossed over to her and lifted her chin. "You have nothing to worry about." He kissed her soundly on the mouth and then moved away.  
  
She watched after him, eyes on his back.  
  
She didn't believe him for a second.  
  
She was a smart woman and she saw the way that he watched Helena Kyle. She knew that he had been stalking her. She knew that Mick was obsessed.  
  
That was dangerous.  
  
To all of their plans.  
  
So sure, Helena Kyle would get her first taste of innocent blood that night. And it's probably tear her up which would be a blast to watch.  
  
And then she'd get a bullet in the back.  
  
Cat smiled. She fingered the .44 at her hip.  
  
It was all about control in the long run.  
  
And as far as she was concerned, she had it.  
  
*****  
  
She's not here anymore.  
  
This realization comes over me in waves.  
  
I feel my skin turn to ice and my heart slows.  
  
This is bad.  
  
I don't know what they're planning for her but they've removed her from the Red Zone. Wasn't hard to find that out; the morons we've been fighting can't stop talking about how Mick left with her in a van over an hour ago.  
  
And we're still here.  
  
Dinah is exhausted. She's been fighting off thugs for the last hour. We usually call them Grungies. Not sure exactly what it means but it's a term Helena coined a long time ago. Come from Old Gotham and you're a Grungie.  
  
"You have a plan?" Dinah calls back at me as she sends forth another powerful telekinetic wave. I can see sweat beading on her forehead and it's just a notch over thirty degrees out here. Snow has been falling for about ten minutes.  
  
"Yep," I call back to her as I nail one of the Grungies with my fighting stick. It slides back into my palm as I await the next attack. "Touch him."  
  
"Touch who?" she says, eyes wide. There she is, scandalized again.  
  
You have no idea what the expression she's wearing looks like but go ahead and try to imagine a dear caught in headlights. With it's pants down. Go ahead.  
  
"Him!" I yell, gesturing at the guy she's just kicked away from him. "Touch him."  
  
She doesn't hesitate even though I think she rather believes I've gone quite mad. She puts a hand on his bare flesh and he cries out. Her methods have gotten more invasive.  
  
When she so chooses.  
  
Dinah finally falls back away from him, eyes wide. He drops to the ground, dead out.  
  
That's new.  
  
Not time for that now.  
  
"Dinah," I prompt. "Am I right? Is she already gone?"  
  
Dinah nods. "They took her to the Shield Ball."  
  
I punch the guy close to me. "Then we need to go. Now."  
  
How stupid ironic is that? I sent Reese that way to protect the cops because I figured that something was up. I just didn't guess that they would be forcing her to be part of it. Now we have to get there. Stat.  
  
"How?" she asks, desperate.  
  
Poor girl. She's so damn tired. Exhaustion is written all over her but she's being strong and brave.  
  
I smile at her. "Blow them away."  
  
She blinks at me, for a moment not understanding. Then she does. She closes her eyes and focuses. She gives it everything she has in her. I can see her muscles strain. Idly I wonder if she'll even be able to walk when this is over.  
  
The Grungies all go flying.  
  
Several of them a couple of dozen feet backwards.  
  
The pure blast of psychic energy she kicks out knocks all of them unconscious on the spot and suddenly we're standing by ourselves in the middle of the Red Zone.  
  
Okay she's standing and I'm sitting.  
  
Hey now, I'm allowed a little gallows humor at my own expense.  
  
She looks at me, "Good enough?"  
  
Her words are slurred. I need to get her lying down. And fast.  
  
I reach across and yank her onto my lap. Putting my hands to my wheels, I start pushing us towards my fathers' old office.  
  
We don't meet any resistance but I'm whooped by the time we get there. Just the same, I push on. If a seventeen year old girl can be so brave and resolved, I don't have any excuses.  
  
I jam open the hatch and slide Dinah off of me. "Can you climb down?" I ask.  
  
She murmurs in the affirmative.  
  
She drops herself in and I hear her hit the ground with a thud. All of the alarms in my head are going off. I look behind me and I can see a few Grungies moving towards us. They look disorientated but they're still moving. I'm a dead duck if I don't get down there quickly.  
  
I realize that there's no way for me to get my chair down the hatch.  
  
"Fuck," I curse, suddenly very angry.  
  
I hate this stupid chair.  
  
I close my eyes and tighten my jaw. This isn't the time.  
  
I can throw things later.  
  
"Miss Barbara?" I hear from below me.  
  
It's like the bloody rain that voice.  
  
"I'm here Alfred but I have incoming. I can't get the chair down."  
  
"Leave it," he says simply. "You have another."  
  
I blink. I know this is the right answer but it just never occurred to me. I've been strapped to this monstrosity for almost eight years. I've never left one behind. Hell, I've never even had a strong enough anger fit to destroy one.  
  
Yet.  
  
I push myself from the chair. I draw my fighting stick out from the side pocket and then take the survival pack that I had strapped over the backside. You know, bandages and emergency medical supplies.  
  
I see one of the Grungies trying to force the door to the office open. I don't have a lot of time. I have to get down into the hatch and I have to lock it closed behind me.  
  
The Batcave must not be compromised.  
  
Under any circumstance.  
  
I reach back and nail the side of my chair with the fighting stick. The wheel spins but stays attached to the chair. It hit it again, this time with all of my upper body strength. It crunches and falls apart. I need them to think this is a relic of the old days. Maybe they'll just leave this office alone. They have thus far.  
  
"I'm coming down," I say to Alfred.  
  
I don't hesitate. I drop myself down the hatch and he wraps his arms around my waist and brings me to the ground. He stands up quickly and starts to close the hatch.  
  
I look over and see Dinah leaning against the wall. Her eyes are barely open. Still, I see that her hands are out.  
  
"Dinah, no," I whisper.  
  
She ignores me. "Alfred, move," she mutters.  
  
He does so and a blast of energy spins the hatch closed. I hear it creak and snap and I wonder for a moment if it will ever be able to be opened again. I don't really care.  
  
Alfred kneels over me, his hands doing a quick inspection. I try to push him away but he's far more insistent. He apparently finally decides that I'm okay.  
  
"Miss Helena?" he asks, his voice still calm. His eyes tell another story. He actually thinks I came back without her.  
  
It hurts.  
  
He touches my shoulder. We don't need words I guess. He doesn't think that at all.  
  
"She's already been moved. They're taking it to the Shield Ball for some reason or another," I answer, trying to speak over how thick my throat suddenly feels. "Reese?"  
  
Alfred chuckles. "Oh he got hopelessly lost around the Batcave. I think he was about to hurl himself off the edge when I found him."  
  
I laugh. The mental image of the always in control cop standing over the bottomless bluffs looking down is hysterical.  
  
"Where is he now?"  
  
"Upstairs showering I believe. He's getting ready for the ball. You've been gone for quite a few hours."  
  
"What time is it?" I ask. I slide myself over to Dinah to check her for a fever. She feels warm but she should be okay.  
  
"Just after four in the afternoon. The ball starts at six-thirty. I doubt anything will happen before then." He looks at Dinah who is now lying in my arms. "There should be time for her to get cleaned up."  
  
"Good," I say, my voice low.  
  
This isn't the first time that I've worried about what I've brought these two young women into.  
  
Helena is a natural warrior but Dinah is still a child.  
  
Their lives are on me.  
  
That's just how it is.  
  
And right now I can only guess what they have in mind for Helena.  
  
And considering her injured state, it can't be good.  
  
"Let's go," I say to Alfred. "We don't have a lot of time."  
  
He nods.  
  
He gets me.  
  
And he knows the truth as well. It's more than just that their lives are my responsibility. It's that we're all tied together.  
  
If they fall, so do I.  
  
Time is running short.  
  
*****  
  
She flinched in pain as he finished taping up the wound. He'd done another full inspection of it, going even so far as to try to see how deep the wound was. "This should hold," he grunted, standing up.  
  
"How do I know you won't kill them?" Helena asked, moving into a more relaxed position. She turned to glare at Mick. "How do you I won't kill you the moment I have a gun in my hand?"  
  
Mick shrugged. "Guess we're both taking a chance. But I still hold all of the cards. You have no idea where I have them hidden and trust me, I will kill them."  
  
"I believe you," she said softly. "So you want me to just walk into a room and shoot the first cop I see?"  
  
"You make it sound so dramatic," he grinned. "But sure, something like that."  
  
"What makes you think every cop in that room won't start shooting at me?"  
  
"Because we'll have disarmed them all by then," he replied. He dropped down into a sitting position and looked out of the window of the moving van.  
  
"So you're not even going to give them a fighting chance?"  
  
"Why would I do that? The adventure is for me, not them. And killing a roomful of cops is the kind of drug that never dies."  
  
"You're a fucking loon," she muttered.  
  
"Yeah," he grinned. "Oh, did I forget to mention the other part of this whole thing?"  
  
"Yeah, you did," Helena drawled. She blinked a few times, trying to chase back the pain. She'd lost entirely too much blood and she was terribly weak. Her body was in agony, now supported only by the strength of her will.  
  
"Well," he said. "I know you're kind of feeling under the weather. By the way, I located the fellow who stabbed you. You left him in quite a state. His girl ain't all that interested in him anymore."  
  
"Damn shame," Helena replied, trying to keep her breathing steady. Her adrenaline was dying down and her body was beginning to really show the signs of her injury. It was serious now, much more than the nasty gash that it had originally been.  
  
And again, Barbara had been right.  
  
"So, I went ahead and got you something to how shall I say it, make you feel better. Bring out the Cat I know is in you."  
  
She snapped her eyes open and glared up at him. "Thanks but I gave up the chemical lifestyle a long time ago."  
  
He snorted. "Wasn't giving you a choice." He reached around to the front of the van and pulled a backpack out from under several rifles. "You see, I can tell that you're not quite yourself. Too much blood loss I think. But I need you to be you. Your friends need you to be you. Their lives depend on it. But I don't think you could even if you wanted to. So consider it this way, I'm doing you a favor."  
  
She wanted to jerk away from him, desperately even needed to. She tried to move but her body screamed. She dropped a hand to her side and groaned when she touched it. This was for real; she was hurt badly.  
  
It was worse; she was about to have her free will stripped away.  
  
"Ratboy, hold her," Mick instructed. A taller boy with brown hair came around the side. Helena tried to slap him away, even managed to connect solidly with his jaw. He punched her back. Mick growled. "Hands off her."  
  
"Sorry boss, ain't gonna get hit by no bitch," Ratboy muttered as he pinned her arms to her side. He pulled her right arm all the way behind her body. She cried out as the wound stretched and began to leak.  
  
Mick waved him off, already focusing on the syringe he had removed from the black case. "It's a hell of a cocktail, babe," he promised. "Enough uppers to get you flying and enough other stuff to make you into the girl I know you are."  
  
"Topside," Helena murmured as he began to check her left arm for a ready vein. Once he found what he was looking for, he tied a piece of plastic around her arm so as to keep the vein large and ready for him.  
  
"Yeah babe, Topside. Figured you'd heard of it."  
  
How could she not have?  
  
Topside was the new drug making it's way through the party circuit. It was supposed to be a hell of an upper with the bad side effect of giving you a rage complex. Word was it made you fly while you were flaming.  
  
She tried to push him away, even managed to kick out and get him in the chin. He slapped her and she fell back, hissing in pain. "Ratboy, fucking hold her."  
  
The kid snarled back at his boss. He grabbed Helena harder, copping a cheap feel as he drew her against his body. She groaned under the physical abuse but managed to stay aware.  
  
She needed to fight.  
  
Had to fight.  
  
Mick grabbed her tied -off arm roughly and jerked it towards him. He grinned at her and then plunged the tip of the syringe directly into the exposed vein. She cried out and tried to push him off her but Ratboy held her tight.  
  
Mick finally pulled away. "Let her go. And get rid of this." He handed Ratboy the empty syringe. Then he grinned at Helena.  
  
She just fell back against the metal wall of the van and closed her eyes.  
  
Life was funny. Two days ago she had been stabbed in the Red Zone. In a place Barbara had told her she wasn't ready for. One night ago she had fled the Clocktower in an angry huff because Barbara had wanted her to lie down and take it easy. And to stay the hell away from the Red Zone. But she hadn't listened. She had returned there.  
  
And now they were in danger. Such terrible danger.  
  
She tried to move a few inches but her body was already beginning to feel strange. Heavy and disorientated. She tried to shake it off but it was too much.  
  
She finally collapsed under the weight of it all.  
  
Mick pulled her towards him and into his arms. He stroked her wet hair back away from her forehead. "Shh," he said. "It'll all feel so much better soon, baby."  
  
Helena finally let her eyelids close, all the fight fading out of her.  
  
She just wanted so damn desperately to rest.  
  
She knew better.  
  
It really was true after all; no rest for the wicked.  
  
Not in the end anyways.  
  
*****  
  
END CHAPTER 2 


	3. 3

I can barely lift my head. My vision is wobbly but I can still see Barbara looking down at me with enough concern to kill me with sugar overload. I try to smile up at her. I need to let her know I'm fine.  
  
"She's not coming," I hear Barbara snap off. I can't really tell whom she is speaking to but she's using her no nonsense tone. Even Helena and I typically don't argue against that one. Unless we're really spoiling for a fight that is.  
  
"You sure that's smart? I mean neither you nor I are exactly what I'd call..."  
  
"Superheroes Reese?" Barbara replies, a tad more snidely than is probably necessary. She's tense. And no, I didn't use my psychic powers to pick that up but hey thanks.  
  
"That's not what I meant," he protests. "And yes, you are. But I meant...in the way of powers."  
  
I try to open my eyes again but the lights in the room are too bright. I'm caught between fatigue and feeling like I'm about to heave. That last blast in the tunnel when I sealed the hatch pretty much melted me all the way down.  
  
"Guys," I murmur, not overly sure if I'm actually speaking of if anyone can hear me if I am. "It's ok, I'm going. Helena needs me."  
  
Barbara and Reese turn towards me. I see glimmers of them through my squinted eyes. She starts to move towards me. "You're not."  
  
"I am," I mutter. I force my eyes all the way open and look up into her worried green eyes. "We're a team. We need the whole team."  
  
Reese nods. He's standing in the back trying to look passive but I can tell that he's pissed. And worried. She means the world to him. "She's right, Barbara. We don't know what we're going into but if Mick is running the Red Zone, that means whoever is behind him is a hell of a lot better put together than Dr. Quinzell."  
  
Barbara glares at him. I want to laugh. That look is so icy. Reese doesn't flinch though. He holds his ground and suddenly I have a lot more respect for him. He's staying with his convictions. He's not about to back down.  
  
Barbara finally does.  
  
"Fine but this is a bad idea."  
  
"Maybe," Reese nods. "But I just don't think we have a choice in this."  
  
"Miss Dinah?" Alfred says from behind me. I turn and see him standing there with a towel over his arm. "Your shower is ready."  
  
I sigh in relief. Something tells me the argument between Reese and Barbara isn't quite over. Not just yet. They both are holding themselves in such a way that I can tell they have a few more points to make.  
  
Just a tad bit stubborn I guess.  
  
Alfred takes my arm and guides me towards one of the bathrooms. I look around the room we're moving through with awe. This is the Master Suite where Helena's father used to sleep.  
  
And damn is it big.  
  
Alfred opens the door to the bathroom which is just about as big as the bedroom I grew up in. The entire room is filled with steam. He touches me gently on the arm "Do you require assistance?"  
  
I look him over, searching for any signs of discomfort. I see none. Just Alfred being Alfred.  
  
I shake my head in the negative. "Thanks, no," I say. "I think I can stand on my own.  
  
"Very well," he replies. "I've taken the liberty of finding you some clothes for tonight."  
  
"Am I dressing up?" I ask, a bit confused.  
  
He shakes his head, "I don't believe so." He placed a pile of clothing on the counter. Looks like denim to me. "If you need me I will be right outside the door."  
  
And with that he's gone. The steam separates to allow him through and I hear a click as the door shuts behind him. I laugh at the drama of it all.  
  
I step out of my clothes and then into the near sauna that all of the steam has created. The water when it hits my skin is warm but not hot. I slide under it, allowing it to rub away all of my fatigue.  
  
It feels good.  
  
Which is a fleeting thing really.  
  
You know I've been at this awhile but you never really get used to the feeling of helplessness you get when you find yourself waltzing into a situation blindfolded.  
  
At least I don't. I'd wager heavily that Helena gets off on flying by the seat of her pants.  
  
I swallow hard, my body stiffening as I think about her.  
  
What we do know is that she's hurt. What we don't know is why Mick would bring her to something he would have to know that'd she'd try to stop. If he's planning on murdering a room full of cops, well then he has to know she won't let him.  
  
So what's his game?  
  
I lean my head against the cool tile of the shower. My mind is whirling a mile a minute and frankly it hurts. What I did earlier was more than I've ever done. It felt like firecrackers sawing through my body.  
  
It felt like heaven on earth.  
  
If I focus real hard, I can hear Reese and Barbara arguing in the other room. It sounds heated. Every now and again I can hear my name and then I can hear Helena's. It's hard to imagine what the disagreement is about because I know they both want to rescue her.  
  
So it has to be about me.  
  
Which means that Barbara is freaking out.  
  
Every now and then she starts acting real skittish, like she's nervous about how far she's brought Helena and I. Like she thinks she's responsible for anything bad we've ever been through. That's usually about the time she tries to talk me into becoming a member of the chess club.  
  
I suck at chess.  
  
No you don't understand. There was a time a few years ago when I was playing a friend and you know what, I actually stumbled into a win. Problem was, I didn't know it and my buddy didn't cop to it. So after we'd put the board away, he told me.  
  
So great huh? I can't even win correctly.  
  
It always blows over, this weird protective streak. Something happens and she refocuses on the whole mission.  
  
But she still has her doubts.  
  
I want to tell her we all do but I just don't think that would comfort her in the manner I'd like it to.  
  
She takes it all on herself. That's just her way.  
  
Truth is though, we're all full of doubts. It's just the nature of things.  
  
And the one doubt I don't have?  
  
If Helena dies tonight, Barbara Gordon will never forgive herself.  
  
I push myself off of the tile, my resolve finally forming.  
  
Enough of this weary lying down crap.  
  
My sister too. My family.  
  
And I am going in.  
  
Let there be no doubt of that.  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Wolf asked, waving a hand past Helena's eyes. "Is she even there?"  
  
The young crime fighter appeared to be staring back at her, bleary blue eyes wide and open. But apparently appearances were wrong because she wasn't showing a single sign of being reactive or aware.  
  
Mick looked up from where he was counting the rifles. "Hm? Oh. I gave her some Topside. She should be okay shortly."  
  
"Never seen anyone go quite so...catatonic?"  
  
"Yeah, me neither. But her pulse is good. She should be fine."  
  
"You sure she won't just snap out of it?"  
  
"Yeah," Mick laughed. "I had Ratboy enhance it a bit. She'll do whatever the hell I want. And I mean whatever."  
  
"So you gonna have her kill Commissioner Montgomery?"  
  
"You betcha," Mick replied, offering her one of the rifles. "I figure even if things go bad, we're not the one who killed the guys with the most stars."  
  
"You're expecting things to go bad?"  
  
Mick saddled up next to Wolf. He touched her cheek with the side of his palm. "No baby, not ever. I'm just saying. And if things go right, I'm guessing she'll be so bent that she'll choose to stay. That'll be fun."  
  
Wolf flashed him a smile but even she couldn't force it to touch her eyes. She loved the man to death but he couldn't seem to see straight about this girl. He was gone on her.  
  
And no self-respecting woman ever allowed her man to have feelings for another girl. Especially such strong and possessive ones.  
  
So no, Helena Kyle wasn't going to be joining the gang after the Shield Ball Massacre.  
  
She'd be joining the dead.  
  
"Mmm," Helena muttered from behind where Wolf and Mick were standing. He looked up abruptly, his eyes flashing with excitement. It took everything Wolf had not to slap the living shit out of him.  
  
"Morning sleepy," Mick said, crossing over to where Helena was finally blinking. He touched her cheek, his fingers lingering a bit too long.  
  
"I was sleeping?" she asked, uncertain. She placed a hand to her head. "Where are we?"  
  
"Not exactly sleeping," Mick said. "And don't worry about where just yet."  
  
"Okay," she said. She fell back against the boxes she had been leaned up against. "What's going on?" Then she blinked. "Mick?"  
  
"Yep," he answered, kneeling down next to her. He ran his fingers through her hair. "It's okay. We need to talk about tonight."  
  
"Tonight?" She shook her head. "I feel so foggy."  
  
Wolf rolled her eyes and crossed around to where Helena and Mick were on the ground. "Kyle, stand up."  
  
Without hesitation Helena did exactly as she was told to do.  
  
She looked up at Wolf in confusion. "What's going on?"  
  
"This is the Cat you wanted?" Wolf snarled. "This isn't a killer."  
  
Mick turned hard on her. "Hey easy there babe. I know exactly what I'm doing. Trust me on this, she's just disorientated."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Wolf replied, shaking her head. "Let's see about that." She stepped over in front of Helena. "Let's just see."  
  
And with that she pulled back and cracked Helena hard across the jaw. The smaller brunette girl spun under the impact, her hand going up to the point of impact. Bleed seeped from her split lip.  
  
"Wolf," Mick warned, his eyes still on his pet project.  
  
She didn't disappoint. When Helena looked up, her eyes were hard slits. She growled and then rushed Wolf. Her hands slid smoothly around the other woman's throat, crushing down as they collapsed inwards. The sheer amount of implied violence in Huntress's posture was astonishing.  
  
"Okay I buy," Wolf coughed out.  
  
"Good," Mick grinned. "Helena, drop her."  
  
She did as she was told to.  
  
Instantly.  
  
Wolf hit the ground with a hard thud, her hand immediately going up to rub her bruised throat. She coughed hard a few times.  
  
"What about her side? She's still bleeding out," Wolf gasped, eyes bleary.  
  
"Her body won't feel it. We'll clean up the wound before we go in. The raw adrenaline and the drug should keep her from feeling any pain. And it should also keep her body from trying to shut down. When this is all over and she's with us, we'll get her fixed up good. Can't have her dying on us."  
  
"No," Wolf drawled sarcastically. "Couldn't have that." She shook her head in irritation. "What about her friends and the pig?"  
  
"She won't recognize them and they won't be able to get through. We'll put the suggestion into her head to shoot anyone she perceives as a threat. They're gonna try to stop her...she'll take care of them. Especially that fucking cop. I want her to drill that son of a bitch right between the eyes."  
  
Wolf nodded slowly. That meant she'd have to get the drop on Kyle. The drop and the final shot.  
  
She turned to gaze at her rival. It almost seemed unfair. Helena was standing there with a blank expression but her eyes were still full of emotion. The rage in the young woman was whirling right under the surface. It would be beautiful to watch.  
  
To watch and end.  
  
Wolf turned to regard her lover, "So when does the party start?"  
  
He squeezed her hand, "Less than an hour now babe."  
  
She chuckled.  
  
It would be one hell of a show.  
  
I'm Reese's date for the evening.  
  
We argued at length for a while but finally agreed that it was the only thing that actually made sense. Dinah is in no condition to be going undercover and even though my father was part of the so-called brotherhood, I need to be with an officer to get in.  
  
So the plan is for Dinah to move around the perimeter and keep an eye on what's going on outside. Hopefully this will keep us from being blindsided.  
  
Hopefully.  
  
In any case, Reese and I will be on the inside. He'll be armed. The good thing about a police ball is that many of the cops will still be carrying their firearms so that's something.  
  
Bad news is that I'm pretty sure Mick has somehow already considered that possibility.  
  
I have to admit I don't care.  
  
Don't get me wrong here. I care deeply about saving the lives of all of those young men and women in uniform but my mission is to save Helena.  
  
I must save Helena.  
  
She's my life.  
  
Seven years ago everything fell apart for me. I was something one moment and in the very next, I was something else entirely. I was a fighter and then I was a voice in a comm set.  
  
Don't get me wrong; I've dealt and all. That's not my point.  
  
My point is that without Helena Kyle, God only knows what would have become of me.  
  
I have my dark secrets about that time after I was shot. After I was hurt. Not things I talk about. Not things I'll ever talk about.  
  
But then she came into my life. For a while before that she lived with foster parents who didn't want her. She was miserable and they weren't thrilled about how active I was in her life. Or the fact that she couldn't control her temper.  
  
There was an incident with her foster father where he started yelling at her about being caught smoking and drinking in the bathroom at school. He apparently got too close to her and Helena broke his jaw.  
  
Yep, literally broke it.  
  
They wanted her gone about five minutes later. They were nice enough not to try to turn it into any major drama but they still didn't want her around.  
  
I don't blame them but I've never faulted her either.  
  
Unfortunately Selena had lived such an isolated life that Helena hadn't been left with many options. She had doted on Helena with such devotion that she hadn't had time for anyone else. We'd been friends only because I had known her secret but just the same, she'd been incredibly selfish with her time. I don't mean that as a bad thing. What I mean is, Selena adored Helena with everything she had in her. She worshipped that child to such a degree that she really didn't want anyone else in her life.  
  
Even Bruce.  
  
Selena always said that she didn't tell Bruce because she didn't want to burden him and maybe that was even partly true. The other part of that however was that she didn't really want to share Helena.  
  
Unfortunately what that meant was that after Selena was murdered, Helena didn't have anywhere to go. No family friends to turn to. The state swept in and tried to tell her that everything was better.  
  
She knew the truth.  
  
It would never be better, just different.  
  
Maybe even workable.  
  
The state didn't care what an angry sixteen year old was going through. Sure they tried to sic every counselor they could on her but Helena wasn't having it. They finally put her in a group home.  
  
She went downhill from there.  
  
When she actually came to class she was so out of it that she couldn't spell her name much less concentrate on colonial history. At least that's what I heard.  
  
You see I was still dealing with my own issues at that time. I hadn't returned to school yet. I wouldn't for a time to come.  
  
And no, again, I won't go into those.  
  
Ever.  
  
The counselors tried to be helpful but she was spinning like a top. She was doing everything she could to lose herself. I'm sure her first sexual encounter occurred some time during that period.  
  
She's never spoken to me about that.  
  
I wonder if she ever will.  
  
For another time I suppose.  
  
Once I came out of my funk, once my crisis had passed, I saw what was going on with her and I think I cracked a little more. She was torn up right in front of me, a young girl ten seconds from a complete meltdown.  
  
There wasn't anything she wasn't doing to try to forget, to fight the rage. She was so completely lost and people had stopped caring.  
  
She had at one time been the captain of the pep squad and one of the most popular students on campus. Constantly surrounded by mobs of people and always entertaining. Then her best friend had suddenly disappeared which had been like a punch to the gut to her. Not long after that her mother had been murdered. Her circle of friends had gone from at least ten down to one. Gibson.  
  
And even he couldn't slow the raging turmoil in her soul. No one could.  
  
Except me.  
  
I stepped in and the state never whimpered a single protest. I had the paperwork done in near record time.  
  
She became my life.  
  
My redemption.  
  
I won't let her go now.  
  
I laugh to myself. I sound almost perverse in my obsession I suppose.  
  
She saved my soul as much as I did hers. She gave me a purpose again. She fights against this battle at times but we both know that we're in this together.  
  
I have to save her.  
  
I have to.  
  
You see if I don't, it's not just her I'm failing.  
  
Not just her.  
  
Me too.  
  
I fall if she does.  
  
"Barbara?"  
  
I turn slightly in my chair and see Reese looking down at me with a puzzled expression. He's dressed beautifully in one of Bruce's old tuxedo. I stop for a moment and inhale sharply. It's quite a visual.  
  
"I'm here," I reply. "You fit his clothes."  
  
"I guess so. He's a little bigger than me in the shoulders," Reese replies, shrugging a bit to show me the difference. Then he tilts his head to the side. "Should I be creeped out to be wearing my girlfriends' fathers clothes?"  
  
I laugh. "No. Looks good on you. And for all of the fashion style she has, I doubt she'd know the difference."  
  
"I wouldn't be so sure," Reese comments. "She still hasn't stopped sniping about my salmon dress shirt."  
  
"It's pink," Dinah snorts as she enters the room. She's wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and I can still plainly see how tired she is.  
  
Just the same, she's made up her mind.  
  
"The car is ready," Alfred tells us from the doorway.  
  
I nod slowly. "Okay."  
  
It's almost time now.  
  
I can't let her down.  
  
I can't.  
  
"Well?" Mick said, pacing around. "Is she ready?"  
  
Ratboy glanced up at his boss and growled. "Almost. Hang on." He looked back down and continued his work on taping up Helena's side. The small brunette was staring straight ahead, her blue eyes distant and unfocused. He finally applied the last piece of tape. "Done." He shook his head. "She didn't make a sound. I guess that stuff you mixed up for her really did its job."  
  
"Yeah, looks like. I mean after all you were damn near putting your whole finger into the wound," Mick growled.  
  
"I was just making sure it was cleaned out," Ratboy protested as he stepped back away from his boss. Maybe the rest of the guys were right and Mick really was losing it over the bitch. He rubbed his jaw absently and realized he really wouldn't be all that upset if she didn't make it back from the Shield Ball.  
  
"Get away from her you moron. Go make sure everyone has their masks. The boss wants us to throw quite a party tonight but I want people to know the Animal Gang still lives."  
  
"Sure boss," Ratboy muttered as he stepped away.  
  
Mick circled around Helena, smiling as he walked. He reached up and stroked her face. Leaning forward he kissed her on the mouth. Her primal reaction, the one he had intentionally tapped, was to kiss him back.  
  
And hard.  
  
After a few moments he broke away. "Damn woman," he whispered.  
  
"Hey Mick," Wolf called out, coming up from behind them. He blinked hard, a bit caught off-guard. He looked her over, searching for any evidence that she had seen what had just occurred. If she had, she wasn't showing it.  
  
"Yeah?" he stammered.  
  
"The Comish just arrived. As well as a bunch of other cops," Wolf informed.  
  
He nodded, his confidence flooding back into him. "Good. Then I'd say we're just about ready." He looked down at her hand. "Is that Cat's mask?"  
  
"You give her the instructions?"  
  
"Yep. If they're wearing a tuxedo, her job is to shoot to kill. And if anyone tries to stop her, she's to off them as well."  
  
"You're sure she gets it?"  
  
"I'm sure," he said, his voice soft.  
  
"Good. I don't want her ruining the party."  
  
"Oh baby," Mick laughed. "She's gonna make the damn party."  
  
Wolf just grunted in reply. She handed him the cat mask and then turned to walk. Finally she turned back, a large smile on her face. "You're right Mick, she will make the party."  
  
She disappeared down the alley leaving him alone with Helena. He watched after Wolf for a long a moment. He frowned. Something was up with her. He couldn't quite put a finger on it just yet but it bothered him.  
  
"Whatever," he finally mumbled. "Helena, look at me love."  
  
She turned to face him.  
  
"Take this."  
  
He reached into the back of his jeans and handed her a pistol. It was his own .44. She turned it over in her palm, her eyes snapping fire. She may have been stripped of her quips and the majority of her personality but the cold hard insides were still there.  
  
The killer was out of the box.  
  
END CHAPTER THREE 


	4. 4

Something is wrong with me.  
  
It doesn't take a genius to figure that out.  
  
Which is great since I'm hardly one.  
  
I'm standing here in a dirty alley wearing all black. The clothes are loose so as to hide my form but the way I walk probably gives away that I'm a woman.  
  
That's if I'm walking the way I usually do.  
  
I know I'm hurt. My side is split wide open and I've been leaking blood for hours. And they've been bandaging me up for the same amount of time. The fact that they have to keep changing the gauze tells me that it isn't stopping. And that tells me that I might be dying.  
  
But I can't feel it.  
  
And that scares the living hell out of me.  
  
I like pain.  
  
I told Reese once that I was afraid of being hurt, afraid of it hurting too much. That's more an emotional thing than a physical one. I actually like when my body is screaming at me.  
  
Don't get me wrong, I'm not all about splicing myself up for a good time but there's something invigorating about feeling my cheek burn after I've been punched.  
  
It tells me I'm still alive.  
  
I don't feel anything now.  
  
I'm just numb.  
  
I know I should hurt but I don't. I know I should be feeling a lot of things but I can't. I'm even starting to not feel afraid anymore.  
  
Which is quite an accomplishment considering that I feel like I'm trapped in my own body. Which to be honest, I am.  
  
I know what Mick is planning and I know what he intends for me to do. I'm trying to fight back against it but I'm fading. I'm losing this battle. The drugs going through me as well as my physical exhaustion are taking me out of the fight.  
  
And my rage is winning out.  
  
When Wolf attacked me, it wasn't me that smacked her down. It wasn't even Huntress. It was something far colder. Far more primal. Something I can't even hope to control.  
  
Something that is me nonetheless.  
  
I've known for a long time that I might not be the good person I'd like to think I am. I may not even be remotely that. Perhaps that line between the bad guys and me isn't so much a line anymore. More like a hazy squiggle in the sand.  
  
I'm losing it.  
  
The bad side of me, the one who might one day need a cell in Arkham is winning. I'm becoming the monster.  
  
I can't stop it.  
  
No you don't understand. This isn't about weakness. This isn't about not fighting hard enough. This is about who I am.  
  
And this is it.  
  
I'm the girl who will kill all of her friends and family.  
  
Including the man I love if that that's what I'm told to do.  
  
Yeah love. Bite me.  
  
Not that he'll ever know. Not that I'll ever be able to tell him.  
  
Not that he even vaguely feels the same way.  
  
Oh God the drama.  
  
I need a drink.  
  
Something hard and toxic preferably. Something that will floor me so maybe I won't do the horrible things I'm about to do.  
  
I know a little secret.  
  
This is me.  
  
I may not be the cackling psychopath in the corner but I'm not a good person either. Barbara would tell me otherwise but I figure maybe after this, assuming we both live through it, which is by no means a guarantee, she'll finally realize what a waste I am.  
  
And that will just be that.  
  
I feel Mick touch my face. He kisses me hard. I respond. I don't know which me this is but I'm giving back as good as I'm getting. I mean I'm talking tongues and saliva and a little above the shirt action.  
  
He finally breaks away. "Put on the mask baby. You do well enough tonight, I'll let you wear the mask in bed."  
  
I want to slap the shit out of him.  
  
But I can't.  
  
I put the mask on and suddenly everything is a little darker. I think I mean that in all ways.  
  
"Lock and load," I hear Wolf say. She's up to something but I'm starting to lose focus. I don't think I'll be here at all in a few moments.  
  
I don't know if that terrifies me or comforts me.  
  
Mick puts his mouth against my ear. "Kill them all baby. Kill them all."  
  
Everything is fading so fast. All I can see is red.  
  
I'm lost.  
  
It's all lost.  
  
God Barbara, I'm so sorry.  
  
I'm so sorry.  
  
Please forgive me.  
  
"It's been forever," he said, smiling widely at her. He dropped down to a knee to take her hand. She gave him back the same friendly expression but Reese could plainly see the annoyance in her eyes. She hated when people treated her different. Like she was less.  
  
"Daniel," Barbara greeted. "It has been awhile. Not since my fathers' funeral."  
  
"Still miss the old boy."  
  
"So do I. I presume you already know Detective Reese."  
  
"Of course," Lieutenant Daniel Balestrom said, offering his hand to Reese. The two men shook firmly. "Jesse, I thought you were dating that cute brunette? Mr. Wayne's daughter."  
  
"I am. She couldn't come tonight so Ms. Gordon offered," Reese replied, trying to keep his face neutral. He couldn't let on that he rather suspected that Helena would be making an appearance.  
  
"Well we missed you around these parts, Barbara."  
  
"I know. Just needed distance."  
  
"How's Grayson doing? Is he still working for the Bludhaven Police Department?"  
  
"Yep. He's doing well."  
  
"Good. Look, I'll catch up with you later on, my wife is waving and frankly if she grabs one more glass of wine, we could have a real scene unfold in front of us." He laughed and moved away.  
  
"I bet," Reese muttered, laughing to himself. "Isn't this weird for you?"  
  
"You mean to look around this room and know that not a man in here has a clue about what is going to happen?"  
  
"Yeah. That."  
  
"I'm used to it by now. I was getting used to it when my father was still a commissioner. It's just the way things are when you operate under the radar."  
  
"That doesn't ever get to you? I mean not getting any credit for all the good you do?"  
  
She turned to look at him, again marveling at how good he looked in Bruce's tuxedo. It made her miss Dick Grayson all the more. "Do you?" she asked. "I mean do you ever miss the credit? Is that why you do it?"  
  
He chucked. "You mean getting shot at? No, I don't do that for the credit. Point taken."  
  
She winked at him. "Thought so." She cocked her head slightly to the side and placed her hand against her comm earring. "Dinah?"  
  
"I'm here Oracle," Dinah replied crisply.  
  
"Anything?"  
  
"Negative. It's all clear out here. I will say however that I have seen some of the fugliest dresses that..."  
  
"Fugliest?"  
  
"Oh. You so don't want to know."  
  
"I imagine not. Okay, aside from the dresses?"  
  
"All clear."  
  
"Good. Keep an..."  
  
"Barbara!" Dinah screamed out suddenly over the comm.  
  
There was a loud thud and then a clank. Then she heard a muffled voice say, "She look dead?"  
  
Another voice that sounded female replied, "Looks it. Keep going."  
  
"Dinah? Dinah?" Barbara snapped into the comm. "Report!"  
  
"What's wrong?" Reese asked, coming to her side.  
  
"Look alert," Barbara replied. "We have incoming. Something is wrong with Dinah, she's not answering." There was fear in her green eyes,  
  
"You want me to check on her?" Reese asked, moving a step towards the door.  
  
"No," Barbara said, her voice suddenly very dull. She pointed towards the entrance of the room where several figures were standing. They were all wearing animal masks and they were all packing heavy heat.  
  
And right smack in the middle was one wearing a cat mask.  
  
"Helena," Reese breathed. "What the hell is going on?"  
  
"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "Dinah?"  
  
"Ungh?"  
  
Barbara let out a breath of air that she hadn't realized she was holding in. She felt her shoulders loosen a bit but not much.  
  
Somehow or another, Helena Kyle had been compromised.  
  
Again.  
  
"We need help inside if you can manage," Barbara instructed.  
  
"On...ugh...on my way."  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, this building is wired with a massive amount of plastic. I want every single weapon on the floor now. You have three minutes. After that time we will sweep the room and anyone still carrying will be shot. You can try to resist but I'm thinking we have the advantage here. Trust me, it'd be a really bad idea to try to fight back," Mick called out from the center of the pack. He lifted up his hand and clicked a button on his watch. "The clock starts now."  
  
"So that's how they're gonna disarm everyone," Reese muttered. "We need to find that bomb."  
  
"Right," Barbara replied. She touched her earring again. "New assignment, Dinah."  
  
"Talk to me," the blonde replied, her voice still sounding a bit groggy. She'd been through hell that day and it hardly looked over. But once it was, nothing was going to keep her away from a nice hot bubble bath.  
  
Nothing.  
  
"They've wired this place up. Probably to C4. We need to disarm the box. I need you to find the fuse."  
  
"Uh, Oracle, I've never done that before."  
  
"I know. Do you have your cell with you?"  
  
"Of course. I am a teenager."  
  
"Thought so. Do you have Gibson's number?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Call him. He'll know what to do. Just get it disarmed. Reese and I will handle everything else from in here."  
  
"What about Helena?"  
  
"I don't know yet. Oracle out."  
  
She looked up and around and saw cops tossing their weapons. Most of the men were standing in front of their wives, several of whom looked irritated. She turned towards Reese and saw that he was staring directly at the woman in the cat mask.  
  
The woman moved and the gait was too damn familiar even if it was a bit more sinister than usual.  
  
It was Helena.  
  
"What is she doing with them?" Reese hissed.  
  
"Something's wrong. Don't think about her right now. We have a whole room of your colleagues who need our attention," Barbara reminded him, trying her hardest not to look at Helena.  
  
"We're down to one minute now people," Mick called out. He looked at the two individuals on his sides. Both of them were female.  
  
"Other one has to be Wolf," Reese whispered. "If my memory serves, her real name is Tara Hunter."  
  
"Wonderful," Barbara sighed.  
  
"That's enough folks, no talking. We're down to thirty seconds."  
  
"Reese, drop your gun," Barbara instructed him. "We need to buy time and I think they're serious."  
  
He looked at her like she was insane for a long moment. Finally, reluctantly, he pulled his pistol out. He gave it a long hard look and then dropped it to the ground.  
  
"Good boy Detective," Mick called out, looking directly at Reese. They couldn't meet eyes because of the mask but the handsome young police man had no doubt that he was being stared down.  
  
"Should I bark?" Reese muttered, shifting his eyes to Barbara,  
  
"Don't start," Barbara replied, trying to be serious but showing a hint of mirth in spite of herself.  
  
She knew this was a very serious situation especially if Helena was compromised but sometimes funny was funny.  
  
"All right folks, time is up. My friends here are going to start checking for weapons. Resist the search and you will be shot. Have a weapon and you will be shot. Time is up."  
  
"What the hell do you want?" a voice growled from the back. The crowd of cops separated to allow the Commissioner to step through. "Boy are you mad?"  
  
"Quite," Mick said with a laugh. "Now I'd stay real quiet there old man or you'll be the first one I drop."  
  
He made a gesture with his hand and the men around him started to fan out to search the crowd. Helena and Wolf stayed right by his side.  
  
"He's not going to shut up," Reese whispered, eyes wide with fear.  
  
"Stop this before someone gets seriously hurt," Montgomery hissed at Mick. "Before I have to shoot your young stupid ass."  
  
Mick turned to the two women. "Cat baby shut him up."  
  
Helena started to move forward but Wolf put a hand on her arm. "Down rookie. I got this one."  
  
And then, quite before anyone could move, she fired a single shot right into the Commissioners' skull.  
  
The woman standing next to Barbara and Reese fainted on the spot. There were several loud shrieks from around the room.  
  
"Fuck," Reese swore, his hand moving to the back of his waistband. He cursed again when he realized he'd already dropped his gun. Looking around he noticed several other officers doing the exact same thing.  
  
Another gunshot echoed loudly through the room. Reese turned and saw the body of a young rookie hit the ground. The thug standing next to him bent over and picked up a gun. He held it up into the air. "He was armed."  
  
Mick laughed. "Well that's a shame. I guess he didn't take me seriously."  
  
"What is it that you want?" Daniel Balestrom asked. He held up his hands to show that he was no threat.  
  
"To put on a show. Tonight, while all of you are here, something really cool is going down. Too bad no one will be able to stop it," Mick answered. He put the barrel of his gun against Balestrom's temple. "You spoke. I don't see any reason to keep you alive."  
  
Wolf touched his hand lightly. "Let's not kill off all the brass quite so quickly."  
  
"The lady speaks sense," Mick said with a laugh. "Sit down and you'll breathe for a few more minutes."  
  
Balestrom backed off a few inches. His face was pale and ashy. In short he was scared to death.  
  
"What's wrong with her? Why isn't she stopping him?" Reese whispered.  
  
"She must not be able to," Barbara replied dully.  
  
"You mean like what Harley did to her?"  
  
"Something like that. But everything about her is off. She's not walking like Helena," Barbara commented, squinting her eyes.  
  
She was right of course. Something was off about the way Helena was moving. Her body was swaying un-naturally, especially for a person with a severe side wound. The sexual predator that was usually there had been replaced by something that was putting off murderous vibes.  
  
Two more gunshots echoed in the room. A gun was risen up over each of the bodies.  
  
"We have to stop this," Reese hissed.  
  
"I know," Barbara muttered. She touched her ear. "Dinah?"  
  
"Working on it. You try to have Gibson walk you through dismantling a bomb. I now know every single use of wire ever created."  
  
"Great. Move it."  
  
"Moving it. Out," Dinah replied.  
  
"Anything?" Reese asked.  
  
"They're working on it."  
  
"Hey, I thought I told everyone to shut the fuck up," Mick growled as he moved towards them. He grinned when his eyes locked on Reese. "You I'm gonna enjoy killing."  
  
Reese opened his mouth to respond but was stopped by Barbara tugging on his jacket. "Don't give him a reason."  
  
"Listen to the bitch," Mick laughed. "Because I'll take any reason I can."  
  
"Hey," Wolf called out. "Don't you think it's time to play a bit? The boys are getting restless."  
  
Mick turned his back on Reese and Barbara. "Yeah, I think so." Leaning down he picked up several guns that were on the ground including Reese's. He noticed the JR scratched into the metal and smiled.  
  
He crossed back over to Helena. "Give me my gun love," he instructed.  
  
She held out her hand and offered him the weapon. He replaced it with Reese's. Then he pointed her towards the crowd. "Everything in a tuxedo. Anyone who tries to attack you."  
  
"Oh no," Barbara whispered. "Dinah, you better be almost done."  
  
"I almost am," she promised.  
  
"Boys, let's start this party. Ladies and gentlemen, time has run out," Mick called out. He fired his pistol into the air and made a loud whooping noise.  
  
"Done," Dinah said. "The bomb is defused."  
  
"Reese, it's been deactivated," Barbara told him.  
  
"Oh good," he growled. He reached down to the left leg of his pants. Lifting the cloth up he pulled out a small revolver. It only held six shells but he figured that he'd only need one to put down Mick Collins.  
  
He never had the chance.  
  
The room erupted in gunfire as several of the Animal Gang started to fire bullets into the crowd. There were loud screams everywhere as people in formal wear tried to duck beneath anything they could. To find cover where ever they could.  
  
And to Barbara's Gordon's absolute horror, Helena Kyle was one of the ones firing a weapon.  
  
She was holding Reese's service pistol in her left hand but she was firing a sawed off semi-automatic in her right. Bullets were spraying against every wall. It was impossible to see who was hitting whom but that hardly mattered.  
  
"Reese," Barbara said, turning towards him.  
  
Only he was already gone.  
  
She scanned the crowd and saw that he was moving under the tables, trying to get near the front.  
  
He was going after Helena.  
  
God help him.  
  
I have to get to her.  
  
I don't know what's wrong with her but something clearly is.  
  
She isn't this girl.  
  
Angry sure. Brash check. Impulsive and utterly infuriating you betcha.  
  
A cold-blooded killer- nuh uh. No way.  
  
I may not know every little thing about Helena Kyle but I know she's one of the good guys.  
  
She likes to party and dance on that line but she knows where she belongs. She's a lot better person than she's ever given herself credit for. I've been around some very bad people thanks to my father and in my experience, they don't much care about who they've let down.  
  
She does.  
  
In some ways she over cares. If that's possible.  
  
She constantly thinks she's letting Barbara down and I can tell that she doesn't think she's good enough for me. She thinks I'm gonna walk away from her.  
  
I don't know how to prove that I'm not going anywhere.  
  
So I guess all I can do now is try to save her.  
  
This isn't her.  
  
She isn't a killer.  
  
That prick Collins has done something to her. It's obvious that he's not quite over her. The way he standing next to her, he looks like a master over his dog. That imagery pisses me off to no end.  
  
I move under the tables, hitting my back against the bottoms of them. I think by now that I've scrapped off at least two of three layers of skin. As I move I find a discarded weapon. It feels heavy so I think it's loaded. I check and it is.  
  
Good.  
  
But I'm gonna nail Collins with my own weapon.  
  
Cops aren't supposed to seek vengeance but this guy is shooting my brothers and sisters in uniform. Even if he hadn't done whatever it is that he's done to Helena, I'd still be gunning for his ass.  
  
I look around and I can see people collapsed on the ground. Some wounded and some dead. Others are cowering. Still others have found their weapons and are firing back.  
  
Things are getting bad in here.  
  
But at least the bomb threat is gone. If we can stop Collins then we'll be okay.  
  
We'll be okay.  
  
I have to get to her.  
  
I can feel her pain from here. She might not be emoting it but I know her well enough to know that she'd never do this.  
  
She has wanted to kill before. She's even come close a few times. She was probably inches from murdering Clayface. He deserved it. He had it coming.  
  
She stopped herself.  
  
She'd never hurt an innocent.  
  
She's one of the good guys.  
  
"Detective Reese," I hear from above me. I curse and look up. It's the chick in the wolf mask. She's standing over me, pointing a gun down at my head.  
  
I must have lost my focus.  
  
Stupid.  
  
Fucking stupid.  
  
"Hey Cat, come here," Wolf calls out. I see Helena turn and she walks over.  
  
Without hesitation.  
  
"What?" Helena asks. Her voice sounds weird, disconnected. It doesn't sound like her.  
  
I know it's her.  
  
"Kill him," Wolf tells her. She touches Helena's left hand and indicates for her to use my gun. I feel my stomach roll violently.  
  
This is bad.  
  
I'm not supposed to fear my own gun.  
  
I see Mick appear from behind them. He takes off his mask and grins down at me. He thinks he's got me.  
  
"Wolf baby, I got it. You go take care of the Lieutenant. He's mounting a resistance."  
  
I look around and I see that sure enough, Daniel Balestrom is hunkered down beneath several tables along with a handful of other cops. And they're fighting back.  
  
Good for them.  
  
I wonder idly where Barbara is and I pray that she's all right.  
  
If something happens to her, saving Helena physically won't make a damn bit of difference.  
  
"Sure," Wolf says, altogether too easily. I wonder what she's up to. I don't have much time to think about it before Mick is yanking me to my feet.  
  
He smells like Bubble Yum. Grape I think.  
  
"Detective, how's it feel to know you lost?"  
  
"I haven't lost," I reply, knowing that it's bravado. He takes both of my guns away from me and throws them on the floor. I see that Helena is still pointing my service pistol right at my chest.  
  
I just don't like how this is all breaking down.  
  
These are not even Vegas odds.  
  
Mick grins at me and I want to knock his teeth out. He's so damn cocky. He thinks he's got it all made. He thinks he's got it all figured out.  
  
Have to admit, sure does look like he might be right.  
  
God that pisses me off.  
  
"I got the girl, Reese. I'm gonna be the one with her tonight while they're zipping you up. I'll be fucking her while they're burying you."  
  
He says the words so coolly and I feel a chill go through me.  
  
"Baby, take your mask off. I want Reese to see your face. I want it to be the last face he sees before he dies."  
  
"No," she says dully. "I just want him to see my real face."  
  
Her words are so strange but somehow they feel like she's screaming out to me. She's trying to tell me something.  
  
I just don't like what I think it is.  
  
I think she's given up.  
  
Up and in.  
  
She thinks she's lost.  
  
I wonder if she is too.  
  
"Okay babe," Mick says. "Then just kill the stupid fuck." He lifts her hand so that the gun is against my forehead.  
  
He wants her to shoot me between the eyes.  
  
She pulls back the hammer of the gun.  
  
It's really going to happen.  
  
I'm going to die by her hand.  
  
Oh God.  
  
Oh God.  
  
I see her finger touch the trigger and it all moves in slow motion. She starts to pull it.  
  
I keep waiting for her to jerk the gun around. To change positions.  
  
She doesn't.  
  
She fires.  
  
She's going to kill me.  
  
I hear a voice scream out my name.  
  
I turn my head towards it.  
  
I'm flying.  
  
Am I already dead?  
  
Oh God, she shot me.  
  
He slammed hard against several of the tables and landed in a heap. Looking up he blinked several times. It was impossible that he could have escaped. She had put the gun right to his head.  
  
He had to be dead.  
  
"Reese?"  
  
He looked up and into the blue eyes of Dinah Lance. She looked shaky and unsteady but she was still there. There was a small trickle of blood right beneath her nose. Not a full nosebleed but something just the same.  
  
She had saved him.  
  
"Yeah?" he replied, uncertain himself. "At least I think so."  
  
"You're hurt," she said. "I'm sorry. I had to get you out of there, I wasn't fast enough."  
  
She looked up at Barbara Gordon who had crawled over to them. Her chair had been abandoned several feet away, "Are you okay?" she hissed at them.  
  
"He's shot," Dinah said, pointing towards Reese's leg.  
  
He looked down and blinked. "I am?"  
  
Barbara pulled herself up so that her back was against one of the tables. Tilting her head just a bit she tried to examine the wound. "This isn't good," she finally said.  
  
"What do you mean? It's just a leg wound. She was going to shoot him in the head," Dinah insisted, panic in her voice.  
  
Barbara put a hand on her shoulder. "The bullet went through muscle. If we stop the blood, he should be fine. It's just an ugly wound."  
  
"Sorry," Dinah said. "I just..."  
  
"You did fine. We have to stop her. She's not acting of her own free will. He's controlling her. As long as he is, she has to be considered deadly. She has to be stopped."  
  
"Right. You want me to try to knock her out?"  
  
"Wait," Barbara said. "Hopefully we can create a little bit of clearance. There are too many innocents near her. Too many injured. I don't want to hurt them worse."  
  
"Got it," Dinah said, peering back down at Reese. Barbara was working to tie off the wound with the cumber band from the tuxedo. "Those cops are doing pretty good."  
  
Barbara glanced up. "Yeah, they're definitely holding their own," she replied. She started to look back down and away but was stopped by Dinah placing a hand on her arm.  
  
"Oh my God," Dinah whispered, eyes wide in horror.  
  
Barbara followed her gaze to where Helena was standing. She had her back to them and was still firing into the crowd. Standing three feet behind her was Wolf.  
  
And she was aiming a pistol right at Helena's back.  
  
Mick spun around, horror in his eyes. "Wolf!" he screamed.  
  
It was too late.  
  
The woman in the wolf mask fired the pistol. The sound of the bullet leaving the chamber echoed harshly through the room.  
  
Helena grunted as it collided with her back. She stumbled forward a few steps but incredibly kept her balance. She spun around, blood streaking down her.  
  
Then she fired her gun.  
  
"Helena, no!"  
  
Barbara screamed it as loud as she could but nothing stopped.  
  
Well maybe it slowed down a bit. Just enough so that she could watch everything in slow motion.  
  
The bullet slid smoothly through the rubber of Wolf's mask and then hammered it's way into her skull. A few milliseconds later her face exploded into a spray of blood and bone.  
  
The violent debris splattered everywhere leaving Mick standing nearby, nearly frozen in horror.  
  
A moment later he too was cut down by a bullet from the gun of Daniel Balestrom.  
  
Mick hit the ground with a wet thud, his chest soaked in blood. He gasped in pain as he tried to speak. His lips were soaked red and he coughed violently.  
  
"Damn," he said.  
  
Barbara looked up sharply at Dinah," Knock this whole damn room out. Do it now."  
  
Dinah never hesitated.  
  
Putting her palms out in front of her, she focused every bit of energy within her.  
  
The effect was a display twice as powerful as the one in the Red Zone.  
  
And twice as violent.  
  
Bodies were thrown every which way humanly possible. The lights in the room crackled and went dark. Fixtures tumbled from the ceiling.  
  
"Good enough?" Dinah mumbled, her exhilaration at her powers momentarily pushing away the exhaustion. Blood flowed freely from her nose now.  
  
"That'll do," Barbara said simply. "We need to find Helena and get the hell out of here."  
  
"I see her. Can you handle Reese?"  
  
"If I can get back to my chair, yes."  
  
"Good. I told Gibson to stand by. I had a feeling we'd need a getaway. Alfred frankly drives like an old man."  
  
"Good thinking," Barbara said nodding. She slid out from under Reese and pushed herself towards her chair. Right now the room was eerily silent but it wasn't likely to stay that way for long.  
  
Time was short.  
  
Dinah crawled towards where Helena was on the ground. She was struggling to stand, still somehow conscious. Dinah reached up and yanked off the mask.  
  
What she saw horrified her.  
  
Helena's blue eyes were cold.  
  
Stone cold.  
  
And empty.  
  
"We have to go," Dinah told her. "We have to go now."  
  
Helena tried to swing at her. Hell, she tried to use her arm as a baseball bat.  
  
Dinah easily ducked away, momentarily glad for Helena's extensive injuries. Putting a hand on her friends' forehead she whispered, "New trick."  
  
A blast of energy surged through her and into Helena. The older girl screamed and then fell forward, dead out.  
  
Dinah breathed a long sigh of relief and then mumbled, "I'm sorry."  
  
"Dinah, now," Barbara snapped over the comm.  
  
"We're on our way," Dinah replied, reaching down to lift up her fallen friend. There was blood everywhere. "Barbara?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"We've got a problem," Dinah said softly.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
There was a long pause and then she finally replied," She's dying. Helena's dying."  
  
TBC..  
  
END CHAPTER 4: 


	5. 5

She's bleeding all over me.  
  
I'm holding her flat against me in the backseat of Gibson's Cadillac and every single bump in the road causes her pain. She's just barely conscious but she's not at all aware. Just the same when the car rocks, so does she. And her body shakes in response.  
  
I run my fingers through her hair and I can feel how wet she is. A few strands are stuck to her forehead. She's sweating like crazy. Her fever is high. Her skin is so pale and blotchy.  
  
I was right the first time; Helena is dying.  
  
"You're bleeding," Barbara says, turning towards me. She motions towards my nose. I lift a hand up and realize that's she right. "Did you get hit?" she asks.  
  
She knows better.  
  
This is from inside of me.  
  
I did this to myself.  
  
I virtually exploded outwards. God, I knew that my powers were growing but man that...that was something else.  
  
I shake my head. I don't want to talk about what happened in there just yet. It's too damn weird.  
  
"Are you sure it was smart to leave Reese behind?" I ask instead.  
  
Barbara nods slowly but I can see her doubts. "Other officers saw him there. They saw him get shot. If he just disappeared there'd be too many questions." She pauses. "Besides...Helena..."  
  
"They didn't see her face," I offer up quickly. "She never took off her mask."  
  
"That's just about our only saving grace," Barbara notes with a trace of bitterness. She turns back towards Gibson. "Park behind the Clocktower when you get there. There's a garage on the lower level."  
  
"Sure," he says. I can see that he hasn't stopped using the rear view mirror to check out Helena. "Is she going to be okay?"  
  
"I don't know," Barbara admits. She looks down at herself and touches the blood on her blouse. It started the night looking so beautiful but now it's stained beyond repair. That and something tells me then when this is all over, she's not really going to want to hold on to it.  
  
I look away from her and gaze back down at Helena. She seems to be staring up at me but there's nothing there. Even my touch doesn't call up any responses. Just cold blue eyes looking straight upwards.  
  
It occurs to me that there is distinct possibility that I might have flash fried her mind.  
  
I decide not to dwell too terribly long on that possibility.  
  
It's horrifying.  
  
I move a towel that I have pressed up against the gunshot wound on her back. It's already soaked bright red. I push it harder into the wound and her body jerks in response.  
  
I still don't see an emotional reaction. No fear. No terror.  
  
Nothing.  
  
I notice a small thin stream of blood seeping from her ears. I probably blew out her eardrums when I zapped her. At the very least I intentionally overloaded her system.  
  
It was my only option.  
  
I didn't think I had any other choice.  
  
I had knocked the rest of the room on its ass but she was still moving. Even with all of her injuries.  
  
And she was still trying to kill.  
  
Kill me.  
  
When she had swung her arm at me it hadn't been with the intention of knocking me off her; it had been a blow meant to kill.  
  
I hadn't had a choice.  
  
If anyone had come on to the scene and unmasked her, we never would have been able to save her.  
  
If I hadn't gotten her out of there at that exact moment, she probably would have bled to death there on the ground.  
  
Completely unaware of the fact that she was doing so.  
  
I didn't have a choice in what I did. I didn't. No, I need to make this clear. There was no other choice.  
  
I try to pull her closer to me, needing desperately to keep her warm. Her short dark hair is sticky and slick from both blood and sweat. I can feel her bleeding against my thigh. That's coming from her side wound.  
  
You know the one that started this whole mess in the first place.  
  
"Hey Barbara," I say suddenly, my eyes locking hard on Helena's left arm. I tilt my head to the side and squint at a blue-purple looking bruise I see there.  
  
She turns slowly. "Hm?"  
  
"She's been injected with something," I tell her.  
  
It's the only thing that makes sense.  
  
I've heard some passing stories about Helena doing a few drugs in high school. To my knowledge though it never involved needles. She abhors them. Every time Barbara tries to draw blood she gets cranky. And violent.  
  
As in touch me with that again and I'll kick your ass to hell and back.  
  
Which means her drug use was probably limited to the oral type. Smoked or swallowed.  
  
Not that I know much about drugs mind you.  
  
So someone else stuck her.  
  
Probably Mick.  
  
Barbara looks at me helplessly. If she were any other person she'd already have been climbing over the seat to get to Helena. She knows her limitations however and so she settles for narrowing her eyes at the wound.  
  
"We're here," Gibson announces at he parks the Caddy. He gets out quickly and drops back to the trunk. He opens it up and pulls out Barbara's wheelchair. He has it up and ready to go in about ten seconds.  
  
Must be nice to instinctively know how everything works.  
  
Or to remember every instruction manual that you've ever looked at.  
  
For even a brief moment.  
  
Barbara lifts herself into the chair. "Let's go," she barks to me.  
  
Gibson opens the back door for me. He offers to take Helena from me. I start to decline but then quickly realize that with as wiped out as I am, I might not be completely capable of carrying her with the utmost care.  
  
Finally, reluctantly, I hand her over.  
  
Gibson folds her into his arms with such amazing reverence. I've always known his feelings for her. He loves her. He'd do anything for her.  
  
Even knowing that she'll never be able to return his feelings.  
  
I step out of the car and place my hand against the metal for balance. My body feels like it's slowly turning to jelly.  
  
Gibson smiles at me for a moment and then his entire attention returns to Helena. He tears away from me at full tilt. I think to tell him to slow down and not jostle her too much but the words never leave my mouth.  
  
Time is of the essence. Hell, to be even more melodramatic, we're in a war with a time.  
  
And right now we're losing.  
  
"Dinah are you all right?" Barbara asks as she approaches me. I can see that she's covered in grime and blood. I don't think it's hers though. The blood that is. I believe it belongs to Reese.  
  
"No," I say quietly. I know that I should have lied to her but I'm so tired.  
  
So damn tired.  
  
"She'll be okay," Barbara tells me, her voice amazingly soft.  
  
I turn to her and I feel my legs wobble a bit. Still I manage to hold my ground.  
  
Okay fine, I'm leaning against the car almost completely.  
  
I'm not gonna fall.  
  
I'm not.  
  
I'm just not.  
  
"You don't believe that," I tell her, tears in my eyes. "You think..."  
  
She cuts me off, "She'll make it."  
  
Then she turns and starts to move away from me, her wheels scraping the cement of the ramp. The sound echoes in my skull and all of the sudden I see blackness creeping down over my vision.  
  
"Barbara?" I say, my voice growing very weak. I feel my fingers slide away from the metal.  
  
She turns back to me and I see her eyes grow wide. Her hands jerk to her wheels and she rushes to me. She catches me just before I smack against the ground.  
  
And then the darkness hits me.  
  
Full force.  
  
I'm out.  
  
And my last thought before I'm spinning away?  
  
God please don't let Helena die.  
  
I'm such a damn child.  
  
"Is Dinah sleeping?" Gibson asked as he turned towards Barbara. He was standing over one of the bio-beds. His eyes were roaming the length of it, taking everything in.  
  
Barbara rather guessed that this was something he'd prefer to forget.  
  
He never would.  
  
It was his gift.  
  
Or his curse.  
  
"Yes," she replied. "It was just too much. She overloaded herself. She probably won't wake until morning." She paused. "At least I hope not."  
  
She moved quickly over to several of the machines and began to flip them on. Her demeanor was cool, almost detached. Gibson could only wonder what was going on inside of her.  
  
Wonder and worry.  
  
He had known Barbara and Helena for several years. Helena more than her mentor but both just the same. They were definitely superheroes in every sense of the word.  
  
Which meant that they were prone to having the bad tendency to blame themselves for every little bad thing that could ever happen.  
  
Barbara Gordon was certainly no exception to the rule.  
  
In fact, in many ways, she was the rule.  
  
"Did we really need to tie her down?" Gibson asked quietly, his eyes retreating back to the immobilized form of Helena Kyle. She was lying on her stomach, bound to the bed by cuffs at both her hands and feet. There was a leather strap around her middle. It was just a few inches away from the gaping wound on her side.  
  
"Yes," Barbara said curtly. She handed Gibson a pair of scissors. "Cut her shirt away. I need to get that bullet out."  
  
"Where did it hit her?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Barbara replied, her voice still so damn low. "Somewhere in the back."  
  
"Could she be..."  
  
"Paralyzed? Let's not go there yet," Barbara snapped, a little harsher than was probably necessary. Gibson seemed to understand and just let it pass him by.  
  
"But why are we tying her down?" he asked, his eyes studying Helena intensely.  
  
"There's something in her...some kind of drug I think... that has been making her extremely violent. I don't know what it is yet but..."  
  
"Topside?" Gibson asked, glancing down at the needle prick. He placed a finger over the wound and noticed that it was seeping clear fluid. He put a finger to it and sniffed it. It smelled vaguely like almonds.  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow. "Isn't that the new designer party drug?"  
  
"Yeah. It's supposed to enhance everything in your body. No inhibitions at all. I've seen it at a few times at No Man's Land. People act...weird."  
  
"How so?" Barbara asked as she continued to gather her tools. "And by the way, cut..."  
  
"Cut?" Gibson queried. Then he smacked himself in the forehead. "Right." He bent over Helena and started to use the scissors to cut away her shirt. He clenched his jaw. It was no secret to anyone what his feelings for her were but now was not the time.  
  
Now was the time for him to be a good friend. Her best friend. Like he's been all through out high school. Like she needed him to be now.  
  
Which of course meant no sneaking quick looks at her body.  
  
But hey, just the same, it wasn't his fault that he couldn't ever forget anything.  
  
Though to be honest, seeing her bloody and tiny just wasn't a mental image he wanted for all time.  
  
"Topside?" Barbara prompted as she crossed over to him. She took the cut shirt from him and dropped it into a trash basket. She indicated for him to cut the bra away as well. The look in her eyes was very clinical. All business.  
  
Gibson did as he was told, lifting her body just a bit so that he could remove the cut fabric. Barbara took this from him as well and disposed of it.  
  
"Gibson?" she reminded him.  
  
"Some people get very excited and are all over the place. Others get violent. It's like alcohol times ten. No thirty. I'm talking a nun doing a lap dance weird." He shook his head. "I've never ever seen someone act like they were being controlled though."  
  
"Mick must have enhanced it somehow," Barbara noted as she bent over Helena. "Do me a favor..."  
  
"Name it."  
  
"I want to see what her blood makeup is right now. Take a sample."  
  
Gibson frowned. "I hate needles."  
  
Just the same he moved over to one of the counters and picked up a syringe with an orange plunger. He turned it over in his hand and noticed that it had a white label on it that read: sample.  
  
"I know," Barbara murmured. "But we need to know. She's going to be in terrible pain and until we know what's in her, I don't dare give her anything for the pain."  
  
"Helena cranky when in pain," Gibson noted with a hint of amusement. He came up beside the small brunette. After several moments of searching for a vein, he finally found what he was looking for. He took a deep dramatic breath and then injected the needle into her left arm.  
  
Her reaction was sudden but somehow thankfully anticipated.  
  
Her arm jerked upwards and she tried to smack him away but the cuffs held her wrists hard and stopped her movement. She grunted in pain and tried to sit up. Again she was held by her binds. She snapped herself forward as if she was trying to charge him. He backed up and away, hitting his back on a table.  
  
Barbara reached out with the flat of her palm and slammed her back down to the bed. "Gibson, get me that syringe with the black on it."  
  
"Sure," he stammered, eyes locked on Helena's. What he was used to seeing was vibrancy and passion. What he saw was nothing. Even the site of her naked didn't take the edge off of this horrific revelation.  
  
She was just blank.  
  
Which meant her body was reacting instead of responding.  
  
"Gibson, now," Barbara hissed.  
  
He did as he was told and offered her the needle. She plunged it directly into Helena's neck. A few seconds passed and then finally the younger woman collapsed, her eyes closing.  
  
"Damn," Gibson gasped. "She's not okay."  
  
"No," Barbara admitted. "Did you get the sample?"  
  
"Yes," he stammered, holding out the needle. The tip of it was broken but there was blood in the tube.  
  
"Run it through the machine and then get back over here. We have to get the bullet out. I need you to hold her down."  
  
He nodded slowly.  
  
"Sure thing."  
  
I drop my head into my hands and let out a breath. I feel the cool air smack against my palms and then disperse through my fingers. My hair falls everywhere and it strikes me that I probably look like a mess.  
  
I don't care.  
  
It's been a hell of a night. And it's hardly over. The clock tells me it's maybe three but I feel like it must be a week from now.  
  
I'm that damn exhausted.  
  
And so worn down from it all.  
  
I mean really, where should I start?  
  
Well I guess we can start with Helena getting stabbed in the side by that thug in the Red Zone a couple of nights ago.  
  
It was a damn gash. Probably would have healed in two or three days without complications.  
  
She should have listened to me.  
  
I know it's kind of a strange time to be getting pissed off now but so what?  
  
If she had just listened to me none of this would have happened.  
  
I shake my head. This is dumb.  
  
I know Helena Kyle. And I knew full damn well that she'd blow off my warning about the Red Zone. It was even vaguely amusing at the time. It's just one of those things she does.  
  
She never believes anything is too much for her.  
  
It's part of why she's so good at what she does.  
  
She's fearless.  
  
The truth is, this is partly my fault as well.  
  
After she was injured I let my anger get the best of me. I knew exactly what was going to happen when I forced her and Dinah to face off that morning. Dinah was hung over but Helena was actually hurt. She was going to get knocked on her ass. And you know what, I was actually looking forward to it. I really was. I guess I felt like she had it coming.  
  
It was inevitable that it would happen.  
  
And I was right.  
  
And she was pissed.  
  
I knew that'd happen too but I guess I figured I could control it.  
  
I didn't realize how angry she'd get.  
  
Enough anyways to start a fight and I walked right into it.  
  
I let it get out of hand.  
  
I should have known better.  
  
My anger pushed her to rebel. My frustration made her do whatever she could to prove that she was fine. And that I was wrong.  
  
And in this case it sent her to a little bar at the edge of the Red Zone called Tidal Wave. To get drunk and be merry I suppose. Or just to burn off some steam in the middle of the dance floor.  
  
And that's where she found out about Mick.  
  
And God knows she couldn't stay away from that challenge.  
  
That's just not in her blood.  
  
And now God only knows what will become of all of this.  
  
She's sleeping in the lab now. Her body is very weak but I actually think she'll pull through. The benefits of being a metahuman. If she was normal, she'd already be dead. Hell, if Helena Kyle was anybody else, she'd be zipped up in a black bag right now. And yeah, that imagery just about makes me loose my lunch.  
  
Even if I can't remember if I had any.  
  
I sit back up and look down at my clothes. I'm wearing light blue scrubs now. There are splatters of blood all over me. All of it hers. I had to get rid of the other clothes. I just...I had to.  
  
"Miss Barbara?" I hear Alfred say from behind me.  
  
I turn to him and say very dully, "I'm angry at her. I'm so angry."  
  
"Of course," he says simply. He offers me a cup of tea. "You should sleep." He turns my anger away. Not like he doesn't understand but we both know that right now it isn't going to do anyone any good.  
  
And it sure doesn't make me feel better so really why bother?  
  
"You know I can't," I reply. "I have to be up...I have to be here when she wakes up. She'll be so scared."  
  
He settles a hand on my shoulder. "You said yourself that she will likely sleep for quite awhile. Miss Dinah is also likewise indisposed."  
  
"I know," I tell him. "So someone needs to stand watch." I turn towards him and put my hand up. I won't argue about this one and I want my body language to relay this fact. We both know that Gibson is sitting next to her right now but it's not the same. I need to be near.  
  
If she wakes up and in as much pain as I know she will be, she'll be terrified. And I can't give her anything until I am absolutely sure of what was put into her.  
  
And I'm still not.  
  
Not completely anyways.  
  
He seems to accept it and he drops back a step to give me space. "How is Miss Helena?" he finally asks, his voice a little heavier than usual. I can hear emotion cracking his tone but he holds his composure remarkably well.  
  
I nod slowly, using the movement as something to keep my adrenaline flowing.  
  
I'm so damn tired.  
  
"I think she'll live," I say slowly.  
  
"Where was she shot?" he asks, much more to the point.  
  
"In the back. Above the heart. Her shoulder will be out of commission for awhile." I take a deep breath and then exhale it. "Her legs should be fine. It didn't injure her spin at all."  
  
"Well that's certainly a relief," he notes quite unnecessarily.  
  
I nod. "Yes. Her side was a bit more problematic. There's substantial muscle damage. She may need surgery down the line. I'm not sure."  
  
"You've done well," he tells me, almost as if he knows I need to hear it.  
  
I do.  
  
"God Alfred, how are we going to get through this one?"  
  
He's silent for several long moments. Then he finally says, "What exactly is bothering you?"  
  
"We don't know how many people she killed tonight," I reply quietly, my eyes locked on his. "We know she shot Wolf. She almost killed Reese..."  
  
I stop and blink.  
  
Alfred smiles. "I just spoke to a helpful young man at the hospital. He informed me that my son is doing just fine. He cleared surgery about an hour ago."  
  
"Your son?" I crack.  
  
He smiles at me. "He assumed I was his father. I didn't think to correct him." He pauses, his eyes dancing. "Should I have?"  
  
"No," I say with a laugh. "Well that's good at least."  
  
"Indeed," he says.  
  
I shake my head, the humor draining away from me. "But that doesn't fix things. Helena murdered at least one person last night..."  
  
"I don't mean to argue semantics with you but did she not kill the person who shot her first?"  
  
"Semantics true. Alfred, she shot her in the face. That was about as brutal of a hit as you can get. She was going to kill Reese if Dinah hadn't interceded. And she was firing into the crowd." I shake my head. "It'd be nice to believe that she never hit anyone but..."  
  
"But that's unlikely," he finishes. "Yes. Unlikely."  
  
"I don't know how I'm gonna pull her through this one. I mean it's not her fault. That drug they gave her...it wasn't even Topside. It was some hybrid mix of mind control drugs and uppers. It purposely sought to bring out...God Alfred...she never had a chance."  
  
"You don't think that will be a comfort to her?"  
  
I laugh and I hear the bitterness in my own voice. "No, I think it'll hurt her more. She likes to believe she's strong and in control of her own self. I don't think she'll be comforted to think that she's a killer at her base."  
  
"She's not," Alfred insists, his voice never rising in tone. Just the same, I can hear the urgency there. He's been watching Helena since she was a small child. Hell he knew the truth about her long before I did. He cares for her as if she were his own daughter most of the time.  
  
Saving her is as important to him as it is to me.  
  
I smile at him sadly, "You really think she'll believe that?"  
  
We just stare at each other for a long moment. We both understand the same things.  
  
This could destroy Helena.  
  
And there is no one for her to lash out besides herself.  
  
I don't know how to save her.  
  
God I just don't know how.  
  
"You'll make her," he finally says. It's the first time I've heard him say something so hopelessly youthful. Something he needs to believe.  
  
I nod. There's nowhere to go with this conversation.  
  
"I think I'm going to go check on her," I say quietly. "Gibson has been watching over her for the last two hours. It's probably my turn."  
  
"It's not," he says. "It's your turn to sleep."  
  
"I thought we already..."  
  
"If you can't even remember your own name, how is it that you will be helpful to her if she has a set-back?"  
  
I snort. "That was low."  
  
"Perhaps," he admits. "But if you're right, she's going to need you now more than she ever has."  
  
"And she'll reject me now more than she ever has as well."  
  
"That's likely," he replies.  
  
"But," I finally say reluctant. "I see your point." I glance over at one of the clocks and point. "Three hours. You let me sleep three hours and then you wake me up. Understand?"  
  
He smiles at me. "Of course. Good night Miss Barbara."  
  
I stop and stare at him for several long beats. Then finally I mumble, "I have a bad feeling about all of this. I think it's going to be awhile before any of us have a good night."  
  
He knows I'm right.  
  
And for once, he just lets me go.  
  
The man spun in his chair and picked up the remote control off of his desk. He glanced over it for a long moment, looking for the faded one that was the power button. His eyes weren't what they used to be.  
  
"So what did happen Ratboy?" Marco Jameson asked. He looked away from the boy in front of him and gazed back at the house of cards that he was building.  
  
The nervous kid with the brown hair shuffled. "Bad shit boss."  
  
"That's helpful," Jameson muttered. "I meant with Mick and Tara."  
  
"Tara?" Ratboy asked, his nose scrunching. Yeah, the kid really did look like a rat.  
  
"Wolf," Jameson, sighing impatiently. "Because I'm watching the news and all I see is that a whole lot of cops walked away still alive."  
  
"Yeah," Ratboy admitted. "Wolf shot Cat. Cat shot Wolf. In the face."  
  
Jameson lifted an eyebrow. "Really?" He chuckled. "Interesting. Maybe Mick was right about that Kyle girl."  
  
"She's a bitch," Ratboy snarled.  
  
"Yes and because you're such an excellent judge of character," Jameson drawled. "So what about Mick?"  
  
"One of the cops shot him. Only me and a few of the other boys managed to escape."  
  
"Well that's good I guess. Did you see what happened to Mick?"  
  
"Nah. I think he's dead though," Ratboy said dismissively. "So uh, does that mean I'm in charge now?"  
  
Jameson laughed, his face drawing to together in an expression of cruel humor. "You're joking right?"  
  
Ratboy just chewed his lip. Finally he muttered. "I survived."  
  
"That's probably because you were hidden somewhere," Jameson grunted. "Not come on Ratboy, you know I'd never let you take over the Red Zone. That territory is just too important." He stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk. "But don't worry son, you will be given a place of prominence. With Mick and Tara dead, we have a serious lack of authority figures. You can have the boys down at the docks then. How's that?"  
  
Ratboy brightened considerably. "That'll work."  
  
"Good. Go on then."  
  
"Hey boss?" Ratboy asked, turning around. "Mick said the Shield Ball was just a diversion."  
  
Jameson grinned. "It was but you don't need to worry about that. Go on."  
  
Ratboy shrugged and made a quick exit. Best not to tempt fate.  
  
Jameson dropped back in his chair and sighed. It had been a very long night and although things had worked for him, losing any of his well-cultivated team was unfortunately. "It's too bad," he said aloud. "I liked Wolf quite a bit."  
  
"So did I," a voice said from the doorway of the bathroom. "But she lost focus."  
  
Jameson turned. "You should by lying down. You look horrible."  
  
"I'm fine," Mick Collins said as he stepped into the light. His face was pale and there were scratches on his cheeks but otherwise he seemed to be okay. He lifted up his shirt and pointed to an ugly bruise on his chest. "Damn bullet dented the vest all the way into my ribs." He glanced towards the door that Ratboy had left through. "Was that smart? Letting him run any of the boys?"  
  
"For now it's best that no one knows you survived and he's easily controllable," Jameson replied.  
  
"I suppose," Mick answered, scratching at his hands.  
  
"You're lucky they didn't look at you too carefully," Jameson noted.  
  
Mick snorted. "Stunt blood eh?" He tossed a package of red fluid on the desk. "Though I think used way too much of it to sell the package. It's sticky everywhere."  
  
"So what did happen in there? I thought you had everything under control?"  
  
"It was under control," Mick said as he fell into one of the chairs. He grunted in pain and rubbed his chest. "I just didn't realize that Wolf was so pissed off. It's okay though, I was right. Helena man..."  
  
"Be careful boy, she's brought you done before and she has a reputation. Besides, you don't even know if she made it through all of this."  
  
"I know," Mick said with confidence. "I also know her."  
  
Jameson poured himself a glass of scotch. He offered Mick one but the younger man waved him off. "Well the good news is that your diversion worked. We were able to get the entire shipment into town without a bit of interference."  
  
"Good," Mick said with a cough. He reached across the desk and picked up a small bottle. He popped the top off and poured five red pills into it. He tossed them into his mouth and then chewed them into little bits. Jameson grimaced and shuddered. "Disgusting. You really should lie down if you're in that much pain."  
  
"I'm fine," Mick assured him. "Besides there are plans to be made."  
  
"Plans?"  
  
"Yeah, plans." He chuckled. "You know I told her that this was all about owning the girl. I wasn't wrong."  
  
"You're sure you can handle her? I won't have her ruining everything. We've worked too damn hard."  
  
Mick looked up at Jameson and grinned. "Don't worry dad, it's all under control."  
  
END PART 5 


	6. 6 FINAL

START PART 6  
  
I've lost total track of time now. I really have no idea how much of it has passed but I'm thinking in terms of days. My injury wasn't horrific but I did lose a lot of blood. It could have been life-threatening if not for the hurried way in which two officers carried me into the hospital.  
  
I'm okay now I guess.  
  
The doctor has told me that I'll be on crutches for a while. Apparently I was lucky and the bullet didn't hit any bone but it did tear through the muscle of my calf. Significant tissue damage was what he said.  
  
"Jesse?"  
  
I blink and look up towards the door. My eyesight is foggy from exhaustion but it slowly clears as I focus on the tall man standing in the doorway.  
  
"Lieutenant," I reply, trying to be crisp.  
  
He puts up a hand. "Skip the formalities Jesse," Daniel Balestrom instructs me. He moves further into the room and then slides into the chair next to my bed. He folds his hands together but I can see that he's fidgeting. He's garbed in his dress uniform which means that he's been attending to official business.  
  
I'm dressed in boxer shorts and a wife beater and my leg is wrapped in tape in front of my body. Marked difference if you ask me. There's a blanket over the other half of me. "What brings you here?" I ask.  
  
"I wanted to check in on you," he tells me. "And let you know that we buried the commissioner this morning."  
  
I push myself into the sitting position. "I should have been there," I say, my voice heavy. Commissioner Montgomery wasn't a close friend but he was someone who helped me out considerably. He believed in me in spite of my family line. He knew who I was and gave me a chance anyways. I'll always be indebted to him for that.  
  
"A lot of officers missed the funeral," he informs me. He sighs and I can see that he's tired. "I have an afternoon full of funerals to go to but I wanted to check in on you. You were lucky, you know that?"  
  
I nod slowly. "I do," I say.  
  
"You went right up into that's one face. I'm still not sure how you survived but thank God you did." Balestrom shook his head. "You got closer to her than anyone else. Jesse, did you see anything that can help us identify her?"  
  
"How do you know it was a her?" I ask, shaking a bit more than I'd like.  
  
"Did you see the way that one moved? Never seen a guy move with that much ass."  
  
I chuckle. Yeah, that's Helena. Even in whatever the hell state she was in. Too much ass for her own good.  
  
"Right," I say. "I didn't see anything. Not even her eyes."  
  
"Damn. We think she might be the only one of the leaders to have gotten out alive. Collins and Hunter were both killed."  
  
"No idea," I say, really wishing this conversation would end. I like Danny Balestrom just fine, he's a hell of a guy but I don't want to talk to anybody about Helena right now.  
  
Anybody.  
  
"Okay," he says. "Look, you're gonna be off duty for awhile. No point in one of my best detectives hobbling about on crutches and they tell me you'll be on them for a few months."  
  
"Great," I mutter. "I'm not really good at not working."  
  
"And you're really very bad at desk duty. This is the best for everyone Jesse, trust me."  
  
I snort. He's not wrong. I'm the kind of cop who needs to be moving constantly. Otherwise I'll go crazy. I've always been that type of person. Just who I am.  
  
Daniel stands up to leave. He gets halfway to the door and then turns back. "Just to let you know, the department has made me the temporary Commissioner. Don't know how long it'll last."  
  
"Congratulations," I say weakly, dropping my head back against the pillow. "How long have I been here? I don't know what day it is."  
  
"It's Wednesday," he replies. "About five days. The ball was Friday night. And thanks, I think. Still not sure I want it."  
  
"I know," I offer,  
  
He gives me one more small smile and then exits.  
  
I close my eyes for a long beat and let my chest rise and fall. I can feel the painkillers in my system but I can also tell that they're ebbing because I can feel a strange buzzing in my leg; it hurts.  
  
She shot me.  
  
I don't know what was wrong with her but she sure as hell wasn't the woman that I've been sharing my bed with for the last several months.  
  
Even pissed off at me and trust me when I say she gets there and often, she'd never try to hurt me like that. It's not her way.  
  
Guns aren't Helena Kyle's way.  
  
She likes using her fists and her feet. I think it makes her feel stronger to know that her body is a lethal weapon. She's not above using something lying around her as a weapon but she's unlikely to ever bring one into a fight.  
  
The gun was given to her by Collins.  
  
He did something to her.  
  
And she almost killed me.  
  
I tell you, time stopped in those few seconds between when she fired the gun and Dinah tossed me against the tables. I think for a moment I was actually sure I was dead.  
  
And then everything exploded in me.  
  
I remember looking up at the exact moment when Wolf shot her in the back. I tried to scream but nothing came out. I tried again when Helena spun and nailed Wolf right through the mask.  
  
I've seen a lot in my life. I've seen a man be electrocuted and I've seen a whimpering woman on her knees be drilled with a bullet between the eyes as a message to her old man. All thanks to my dad.  
  
That was extreme though.  
  
The bullet must have hit her dead center in the face because everything exploded outwards. She must have died instantly. She had to have.  
  
In any case, Helena fired the gun. She got the kill.  
  
Along with a few others I'm sure.  
  
I wonder what that means.  
  
I know that girl. At least I think I do.  
  
I've been sharing a bed with her for almost six months.  
  
We've never exchanged terms of endearment so to speak but I have to believe that we're right there.  
  
Or were.  
  
No no, I'm not backing out.  
  
I know she'll need me more than ever.  
  
I knew this was in her.  
  
I knew what she was capable of.  
  
But she didn't do this.  
  
He did it to her. He made her into a murderer.  
  
You see I've always believed that she could kill one of the creeps she fights but I never bought that she was capable of cold-blooded murder.  
  
He changed things.  
  
She won't see that.  
  
She's going to panic and freak out. I can only imagine her reaction and you know, I promise that whatever I'm thinking, it'll be that much worse.  
  
I don't know how to save her.  
  
I don't know if she'll let me.  
  
"You need to go back to school," Barbara told her, dry humor in her tone. "You've been milking this dry."  
  
"Have not," Dinah said as she moved around the kitchen. She snatched up a glass of orange juice and downed it. "I'm just, I don't know, not in the mood to care about the square whatever of my backyard."  
  
"You don't have a backyard," Barbara cracked, sipping from her coffee cup.  
  
"That's true," Dinah said nodding. "More reason why I shouldn't care."  
  
"Uh huh. Look, things are calming down. We have to get back into a rhythm," Barbara insisted.  
  
"And we will once Helena's awake for longer than five minutes at a time," Dinah replied, her eyes drifting out of the kitchen and towards the med lab. "When will that be?"  
  
"It should be soon. She's doing much better. She'll be wearing a sling for awhile because of the bullet but for all that trouble that side wound caused her, it's healing nicely."  
  
"She'll be okay right?" Dinah asked, her voice getting suddenly very low.  
  
Barbara frowned. She wanted to be able to lie but found that she lacked the heart to do it. Dinah was young but she was hardly a child. She deserved the truth. "It's not going to be easy for her," she started. "She's not going to take it well."  
  
"We'll be able to help her though?"  
  
"Only as much as she'll let us," Barbara said softly. She wheeled around to Dinah's side. "I've known her a lot longer than you and one of her staples...one of her constants...is that when she's in pain, she retreats."  
  
"We can stop her," Dinah insisted, putting the glass down.  
  
Barbara shook her head. "You can't force someone to be how you want them to be. We can't make Helena accept what she's just been through and we can't make her understand that it wasn't her fault. She has to come to that on her own. We can help but only as much as she'll allow."  
  
"I don't like that," Dinah said dully. "We're family. Family helps..."  
  
Barbara reached out for her hand. "Dinah you need to understand here, this isn't going to be easy. There's no way that it could be. Despite all of her anger, Helena isn't by nature someone who can kill without remorse. She's taken a human life. Probably more than one." Barbara paused and then finally whispered. "This should hurt."  
  
"But it's not her fault," Dinah cried out, desperation in her eyes.  
  
"It doesn't matter," Barbara replied, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter at all."  
  
"Right," Dinah said. "You know what, you're right; I do want to go to school. I need to...I need to..."  
  
"Get away?" Barbara finished for her, eyebrow lifting.  
  
"Yeah," Dinah said, a little more color draining out of her cheeks. "Pretty weak huh?"  
  
"Dinah this isn't going to be easy for any of us," Barbara informed her. "But you're right, you can use some space and maybe a little geometry might be..."  
  
"Okay that's taking it a bit too far," Dinah snorted. She lifted up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "I'll walk. I...the air...right."  
  
Barbara smiled at her warmly and the watched as the girl all but fled from the kitchen.  
  
She didn't understand.  
  
How could she?  
  
Helena had always been two steps away from a mental breakdown and three away from stepping over the edge of a very high cliff. Her anger had always propelled her, made her stronger. It had also always been the greatest threat to both her body and soul.  
  
"Miss Barbara?"  
  
"Alfred?" Barbara said, looking up at him. "She's awake?"  
  
"She is," he said. "She's confused."  
  
"I imagine," she grunted. "You think I can lie to her? Tell her everything is okay? I mean she probably doesn't remember just yet."  
  
He offered her a kind smile. "You could," he said. "But she will eventually find out. And really, you'd only be buying yourself a few days." He paused. "In the long run, those few days wouldn't be worth it."  
  
"I know," Barbara admitted bitterly. "I just...God, I just don't want to deal with this. How stupid is that?"  
  
"Stupid is relative, I suppose. But deal we must."  
  
Barbara turned her chair towards the doorway. "Right. Deal we must."  
  
I feel so strange. Like my body isn't quite my own. Like everything attached to me belongs to someone else. It's a new feeling for me.  
  
I turn in the bed I'm in and involuntarily I hiss in pain. I turn my head and see that my arm is in a sling. Upon closer inspection I see that I have tape around my shoulder.  
  
"Hey," I hear a voice say from the doorway. I turn towards it and see Barbara there. She looks tired but she's still smiling at me. That's a relief.  
  
"Hey," I grunt. "What did I do to myself this time?"  
  
"It's a long story," Barbara says, her tone strange. I don't know what to make of it but I decide to let it pass.  
  
"Well start talking," I say, sitting up in the bed. I reach across to detach the IV that's hooked into my arm. I hate when she sticks me with these things. They hurt like hell and they make me feel funny. I squint. "Wait? Is this all because of that little cut I got on my side? Christ Barb, you really hooked me up good. Did I at least get some good drugs?"  
  
"Something like that," she says, tilting her head. "Helena, things have happened. Bad things. We need to talk."  
  
I feel dread sock me right in the gut. I fold my fingers into my blankets and tighten them into fists. "Dinah?"  
  
She shakes her head.  
  
My gut gets harder. It feels like cement now.  
  
"Reese?"  
  
She shakes her head again.  
  
I grab at the sheets harder. My throat constricts. The look in her eyes tells me that whatever has happened is bad. The way she's not being able to meet my eyes tells me that I've done something.  
  
"What did I do?" I whisper.  
  
She turns around and looks at Alfred. They seem to be having a silent conversation. They have a vibe all their own but this is one that I can read plainly. She's asking if she should tell me. He's saying that she should.  
  
I find myself trying to push backwards into the bed I'm lying in. I suddenly don't want to hear what she's about to tell me.  
  
"Helena," she starts. She's trying to figure out how to soften the blow. "How much do you remember?"  
  
I look down at myself, my eyes scanning over my body. My side aches and I can see that I'm gauzed up like a damn mummy. My shoulder is wrapped as well. I've been through something. I think I recall being stabbed but it wasn't this bad. It was a damn scratch.  
  
"I don't," I mutter. "I don't remember anything."  
  
"Try," she insists. "What's the last thing?"  
  
I shake my head. Whatever it is I don't want to know. Instinctively I know that it will change everything.  
  
It will change me.  
  
I don't want to know.  
  
Please.  
  
"Nothing," I say dully. "I don't remember anything." I look up at her and say with my voice trembling, "Nothing happened."  
  
She slides over to me so that she's inches away.  
  
She's still not meeting my eyes.  
  
I wonder if she hates me.  
  
What did I do?  
  
"Helena," she says, her voice thick with emotion. She's trying to tell me something but she can't seem to find the words. That tells me that it's worse than I thought.  
  
I put an arm out to separate myself from her and I jump to my feet. For a moment everything whirls and I almost fall backwards. I jerk out with my good arm and balance myself but my eyes stay hazy for a few seconds more.  
  
"Miss Helena," Alfred calls out, moving towards me as if to assist me. I put my hand up to stop him.  
  
"Fine," I say. "I'm fine. I need air."  
  
"You're not going anywhere in the condition you're in," Barbara insists. She puts her arm against mine and gives me a shove backwards. I hit the pillows with a soft thud but both of my injuries scream at me.  
  
"I don't know what condition I'm in," I insist. "I don't know what the hell is going on but you are scaring the living shit out of me. Barbara, what did I do?"  
  
She pauses for a long moment, searching for the words. Finally she replies, "You killed."  
  
I shake my head even though I know it's possible. I know my own strength and God knows I know my anger. It's hardly even unlikely that I might have finally gone too far.  
  
This is worse though.  
  
Her look tells me this wasn't a matter of me hitting a thug too hard one too many times.  
  
This is more.  
  
"Who?" I cough out, the air catching in my throat.  
  
"Helena, it's complex," she tells me.  
  
"How complex is it Barbara? Who did I kill and why? And why are you looking at me like I'm some kind of animal?"  
  
"I'm not," Barbara insists, her expression looking like she's been slapped. I don't buy it or maybe my anger is starting to cloud my perception. If I did something horrible, I want to know right now.  
  
It can't be that bad, right?  
  
"Barbara, damn it, who?"  
  
She reaches down to her lap and picks up a newspaper that had been rested there. Funny that I hadn't seen it before. She holds it out to me.  
  
I take it from her and begin to scan over the large black letter.  
  
Commissioner murdered.  
  
Seventeen cops executed.  
  
Gunfight at the Shield Ball.  
  
Animal Gang.  
  
Oh fuck.  
  
It all comes spinning back to me at the same time. Kind of like a tidal wave from hell. I feel myself fall backwards from the force of it all. I lift a hand to my forehead. The newspaper slips out of my palm and falls to the ground, scattering every which way.  
  
"Helena," she says, reaching out for me.  
  
I slap her hand away with as much strength as I can muster. I start pulling at the rest of the cords and tubes attached to me. I feel like I'm in a red haze.  
  
I rub the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to get the red out. I feel my knees wobbling beneath me but I refuse to fall. I won't fall.  
  
I won't.  
  
I look up at Barbara and I can tell by her reaction that my expression isn't a good one. She looks frightened.  
  
I think.  
  
"This is me?" I spit out, anger and fear in my voice.  
  
I want to scream.  
  
I want to cry.  
  
"No," Barbara whispers. "It wasn't your fault."  
  
"You don't believe that," I say. I stop for a second and suddenly the anger all melts away. "And neither do I."  
  
I fall backwards towards the bed. She looks at me surprised. She expected more.  
  
I want to tell her to wait.  
  
It'll come.  
  
Just not yet.  
  
I remember that night too clearly now.  
  
Letting Mick make out with me.  
  
Firing into a crowd.  
  
Shooting Reese.  
  
Killing Wolf.  
  
My hands are soaked red.  
  
"Helena, they did this to you. You were drugged."  
  
"I know," I say. "Topside. It doesn't matter."  
  
"It does," she insists. "It does. You weren't acting..."  
  
I hold up my hand to stop her. "I want to sleep," I say dully. I know I should feel more right now but I don't.  
  
Just cold.  
  
She looks up at Alfred for advice. He doesn't have any. He shrugs. Her head falls a bit.  
  
I hate myself more.  
  
"Sure," she says hesitantly. "We'll talk later."  
  
"Yes," I reply. "We'll talk."  
  
Then I turn my head away from her and move it towards the pillow. I know she wants to come to me, to offer support. I keep my arm up and outstretched in order to tell her not to.  
  
I don't want her arms around me.  
  
I don't deserve them.  
  
Maybe two minutes pass before I finally hear the faint whistle of her wheels turning as she exits the room. I exhale sharply as she leaves and then I bend my head further towards my pillow. I want to scream.  
  
I bite the pillow instead.  
  
I want to cry.  
  
I don't.  
  
I won't.  
  
I close my eyes.  
  
And I fade.  
  
This is hell.  
  
"You're up," Barbara Gordon said, turning towards the kitchen door. She wore an overly large smile on her face, one that didn't quite meet her eyes.  
  
One that faded the moment she saw Helena leaning against the wall with a bag over her shoulder.  
  
"I'm up," Helena agreed. "And I'm out."  
  
"Back to your apartment?" Barbara asked, trying to play dumb. "Are you sure you feel well..."  
  
"Let's not do this okay?" Helena asked, impatience in her tone. "We both know what's going on here."  
  
"Helena, don't."  
  
The brunette offered her mentor a small smile. "I'm done here. I'm just done. I can't do this anymore. I can't."  
  
"Helena..."  
  
"Look, we both know how this works. I should be in jail right now. I should be on trial. It doesn't matter what was in me. It matters what I am. You can fight it all the way down the line but the truth is, I am a killer. That was me."  
  
"You can't believe that," Barbara insisted.  
  
"I do. And so do you," Helena said simply. "Look, let's make this easy on both of us..."  
  
"That's impossible. You're walking away from us..."  
  
Helena shook her head. "No Barbara, I did that a long time ago. I'm just leaving. I'm just done."  
  
"You call it what you want to but it's still quitting."  
  
Helena turned abruptly, exasperating and fury etched across her face. "Fine then, I'm quitting. I'm fucking quitting. And you know what, maybe that means no one else will die because of me. How is that a bad thing?"  
  
"You're not a killer," Barbara snapped back.  
  
"Yes I am. I've always been it. I've just kept it under control." She stepped closer to her mentor. "Face it, I'm just like every monster we've ever hunted. I'm the same. I keep on this path and one day you'll really have to stop me."  
  
"Helena, I know you. This was forced on..."  
  
"Stop. Just stop it. I'm no one's victim. I killed. I murdered." She held up her hands. "They're red Barbara. They're stained."  
  
"He drugged you," Barbara hissed, feeling as if her stomach was spinning. She could feel how this was getting out of hand. She had known it would be bad but the utter desolation she saw in her young protégé's eyes was far worse than she ever could have imagined.  
  
"Maybe he did but in the end, he just brought me out." She shook her head. "I'm not going to have this fight with you. I could have left in the middle of the night. I probably should have. I'm being selfish. I needed to say goodbye..."  
  
"Don't..."  
  
"Please...I owe you this. You've done everything for me and I've never been anything but a burden. Don't bother protesting because we both know it's true." She took a deep breath. "I'm no longer your concern."  
  
"Helena, don't do this," Barbara pleaded. "This team needs you."  
  
"No it doesn't."  
  
"What about Reese?"  
  
Helena looked down and away. Finally she whispered, "Not that I think it'll matter but tell him I'm sorry." She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears. "Tell him not to come around. I don't want to see him either. This is it Barbara, This is the end of the line."  
  
"I need you..."  
  
"I'm sorry," Helena replied dully, not able to meet her mentor's eyes. "I'm so sorry."  
  
Barbara opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out. She knew at that moment that she could have spent the next ten hours arguing with Helena and the result would still have been the same.  
  
Helena Kyle was leaving.  
  
The Huntress was dead.  
  
"If you need..."  
  
Helena held up a hand. "Don't worry about me. Just don't. I promise I won't make you come after me. I won't disappoint you more than I have. At least I'll try."  
  
She turned hard on her heel, the bag swinging against her good shoulder. Her other arm was still in a sling but she wasn't paying it much attention.  
  
"Helena," Barbara called after her.  
  
The brunette kept walking, her gait hard and rigid. She hit the button for the elevator with her fist. It opened a few seconds later and she stepped into it. She didn't turn back to face Barbara.  
  
The doors slid shut with a final click and the lift began to whirl as it descended.  
  
Barbara dropped her head to her lap, hands over her face.  
  
"Don't leave," she finished, her voice wracked by sobs.  
  
And from behind her Alfred just watched, his stomach in knots.  
  
Everything was broken now.  
  
Just broken.  
  
-FIN  
  
NOTE: There are two more stories in this series. The next to come is Lose Yourself. Look for that to be posted shortly. It is already completed. 


End file.
